


The Lost Temple of Azarath

by DoomBeThyName



Category: DCU, Justice League Dark: Apokolips War (2020), Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomBeThyName/pseuds/DoomBeThyName
Summary: With his high school curriculum finished, Damian Wayne seeks a retreat from the looming metropolis of Gotham, both mentally and physically. With the mountains of Nanda Parbat from his youth out of the question, he takes a soloing summer job being a firewatcher in the mysterious forests of Azarath, Europe's most unexplored secret. But with relaxation and getting-away on his mind, he doesn't quite know what- or who- is waiting for him.
Relationships: Artemis Crock/Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Raven/Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Leaving The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a story that is every bit the same as the original I posted in my one-shot series. But I'm making my longer ones into multi-chapter pieces now because I've been longing to redo the endings to these. I've loved writing them, but once I began crossing the 20k word border, I just wanted to finish and chuck them out. So now I'll be taking the time to properly do them. I hope you guys will read!

“And you’re sure you want to do this?”

Damian Wayne sighed. This of course had been the reason Selina had offered to help Damian and Alfred with dinner tonight. He looked up from setting the table into the anxious and curious green eyes of his stepmother.

“Did my father put you up to this?” he asked. “Or was it Richard?”

Selina looked a little wounded. “You know we all worry about you. Not even Jason has disappeared for three months before.”

“Close to it,” Damian muttered, continuing to set the gold silverware on mats.

The corner of Selina’s mouth twisted up. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she said, “but that _particular_ spring break aside, your father and I thought- we never thought you or any of your brothers would want to just _leave_ the moment you had the chance.”

Guilt tightened his throat. He looked up at the woman who had been his mother for the last six years. “You know it’s not like that,” said Damian, “I have to do this for me. Not because I’ve had enough of this place.”

Selina opened her mouth to respond again, but a very loud voice cut her off before she could.

“Oh, let the poor guy go put some miles on his soul,” called out Jason loudly, strutting into the dining room with a bouncing manner. Damian scowled at his second-eldest brother. He was wearing his usual fine brown leather jacket and windswept jet-black hair.

“Hey mom,” Jason leaned in pecked a light kiss on her cheek, “what did you and Al make for dinner tonight?”

“Your brother helped as well,” said Selina without indulging him.

Jason scoffed. “Yeah, I hope you poured that water evenly short-stack.”

“ _Enough_ ,” growled Selina before Damian could retaliate. “Be kind tonight. Where is Artemis? Is she coming?”

“Yeah,” answered Jason, “she was off at the library doing, I don’t know, library stuff. She’s riding with Dick and Babs back. I was out cruising, seeing how fast I could circle Gotham bay.”

Selina’s eyes narrowed. “While not wearing that red helmet we got you again, I see.”

Jason’s cool demeanor faltered. He glanced away. “Blame Artemis. She likes the look the high winds give me.”

“Yes,” said Damian dryly, “I’m sure it’s that and not your own self-sustaining need to feel like a young hooligan again.”

Selina chuckled and Jason scowled. But his face lifted as an elderly man in a finely pressed tux, neatly combed white hair, and spectacles stepped out into the dining hall.

“Ah, Master Jason, good to see you have arrived timely for once,” smiled Alfred Pennyworth.

Jason grinned. “Hey Al. Smells good.”

“Roast beef with caramelized onion gravy, sir,” said Alfred.

“Awesome,” said Jason, “and for short-stack?”

“I found a tomato in the back.”

Damian groaned as his brother and stepmother laughed at his expense. Small moments like these made it feel like his place next week wouldn’t leave soon enough.

~

Many people would have found the long, round table with the white cloth, gold silverware, and candlesticks of the Wayne family dining hall posh to the point of snobbish, but they just hadn’t been around while it was surrounded by the family it was for, and that always meant a loud room, home-cooked meals, and a warm hearth.

“I was just going for that roll, dude!” Tim loudly complained as Jason snagged the last buttery warm bread piece from the basket. Artemis, with her reddish-orange hair tied up into a high ponytail, just rolled her eyes at her longtime boyfriend.

“They didn’t have a _clue_ we already knew,” Dick was saying to Bruce with a devious smile on his face, swirling his red wine, ignoring the noise.

“It’s still intimidating to me swiping the card for that much,” said Barbara Gordon, looking rather anxious behind her glasses.

“It still gets to me sometimes, too,” said Selina, nodding, “sometimes I get the old urge of ripping the tags off and making away… but the therapist Bruce tried to get me to see says that sort of adrenaline is bad for my mental health. Just have a glass of wine before you shop, it’ll be funner.”

Barbara and Stephanie Brown, Tim’s girlfriend, laughed.

Cassandra and Damian were by far the quietest of the bunch, yet both were nestled right in the middle of all the routine chaos, sitting next to each other, speaking like sensible people between bites.

“Do you need any help packing?” she asked timidly.

Damian gave her a rare smile. “I’ve got everything handled, Cass. Thank you though.”

“Do you have to be gone the entire summer?” she asked. Damian fought off a frown. His sister Cassandra had an even tougher time letting go than his father.

None of the siblings were biologically tied, of course. His father, Bruce Wayne, had a fascination of adopting, possibly something that was bound to his heart after being an orphan himself. Dick Grayson was the first, a by-the-books type of guy who was well on his way to becoming Gotham’s youngest ever District Attorney, barely in his mid-twenties. In that line of work, he had met his fiancé, Barbara Gordon, the daughter of the Chief Commissioner.

Jason Todd was a special case of the Wayne family. In his early twenties now, he had been nearly every bit as blue-collar as Dick Grayson as well until the faithful day he fell into the bubbly, green liquid- absinthe. His late teen years had been filled with Bruce and Selina getting calls at three o’clock in the morning telling them a familiar story about how Jason needed to get picked up after caught drinking with somebody’s daughter. But after a bit of sorting out and maturing, he found Artemis and they now shared a loft in the city.

Tim and Cassandra had both come into the family at the same time, both with the same passion for being detectives which made them as thick as thieves. They each graduated last month, and each have recently turned eighteen. They were looking forward to a nice last summer before heading out to university.

Damian Wayne was the youngest of the Wayne family. Only sixteen, but finished with all the schooling needed before university work. He came into the fray when he was ten years old, two years after his father had married Selina Kyle.

He had grown weary of the prodigy life in Gotham. Classrooms of close-minded intelligence, skyscrapers full of business people moving large amounts of money, believing they were getting things done, to reporters crowded outside of the Wayne Manor’s gates most times of the day, hoping to start some ridiculous, scandalous rumor like ‘ _Bruce Wayne and the nanny’_ or ‘ _Not Everything Is As Happy As It Seems’_.

Damian just needed a break. And so when he had heard of an opportunity in a remote location, he pulled a few strings to jump on the chance.

“Azarath _is_ quite the place for an extended visit,” said Stephanie, gazing at Damian with the same anxious stare as his stepmother had.

“Well I didn’t think I’d be able to see all of it in a weekend,” Damian said back, twirling the creamy contents of his bowl.

Some of the talking and laughter died out around the table. Damian knew his parents were watching him intently now.

“I’ve always wanted to see Azarath,” said Barbara bracingly, “it’s Europe’s best mystery to this day.”

“Eight million acres of forest,” said Jason, “untouched by time.”

“Heaven on Earth,” muttered Damian, sipping his drink.

“A lot of local legends have sprung up around Azarath,” said Tim. “The people in the suburbs away from the forest state there’s magic in those trees. That people have gone camping and waken up with life-long injuries completely healed.”

“And that some who go camping are never heard from again,” smirked Jason, drinking some wine. Artemis swatted his leg as Selina scowled over at him.

“I think everyone in the world has heard the tale of the Lost Temple of Azarath,” said Dick, grinning. “But people also believe the Scotland has a monster in one of its lakes and that Megalodon is still a thing.”

Jason planted his wine glass down with a sharp _plink_. “Those are both true!”

“But being a fire-watcher,” Bruce spoke up, looking at his youngest son, his quiet yet sharp words making all the others fall momentarily silent, “in Europe’s most unexplored location is on the drastic side of getting away, myths or not.”

Damian kept composed. They were all glancing at him now.

“I need a breather from city life,” he said, “I want to see mountains again.”

And that was a point Bruce nor his wife had found an argument against, though by the glance they shared just then, it was obvious they wanted to. They couldn’t forbid Damian from going, not if they would have been fine sending him to any university in the world just months from now, now that he graduated. He was more of a man than most twice his age. And he did, after all, grow up in a remote area. If any of them were going to disappear for three months into a forest, he had the best chance of coming out in the same condition he went in.

“We’ll write to you,” said Cassandra quietly, “all the time.”

Jason snorted. Selina looked on the verge of throwing her wine at him.

“Maybe Wayne Enterprises can build an internet tower there before next week,” said Dick, smiling again. He was looking at their father.

Bruce smiled back. “My own father once tried to start a real estate development there. That forest takes up the bulk of the entire country of Azarath and he thought it’d make for a good commerce between the two countries on its sides and also a great luxury getaway for the super-rich.”

“Why did he abandon it?” asked Barbara.

Bruce hummed. “I believe he told me once, but I can’t quite remember.” He looked up as his oldest friend came into the room carrying desserts. “Alfred, do you remember why Wayne Enterprises aborted development in Azarath?”

“Oh, yes sir,” said Alfred, gently setting the tray down in front of an eager Jason, “the company sent a small party to provide a quarter of a mile of deforestation.” He offered a plate of his homemade white-chocolate-and-strawberry cheesecake to Selina then looked back to Bruce. “Nearly half of them disappeared the first night they made camp out of the forest’s borders. And all of their supplies went missing.”

It took them all a moment to absorb that information. Even Bruce was caught off-guard.

Jason was the first to recover.

“So those monks of some mythical lost temple in the forest’s depths are just murdering tree-huggers,” he said easily, taking some cookies happily. Selina and Artemis swatted the back of his head simultaneously before he took his first bite.

“I’m _so glad_ this is the place you’re taking your breather in,” said Stephanie, a crazy worry in her eyes now.

“Me too,” said Damian, ignoring the sarcasm.

Bruce and Selina traded another glance, both trying very hard not to voice their raising objections.

~

“Take off is in two days,” said Selina. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Can’t think of anything else,” muttered Damian, looking at his sole suitcase.

“Your father and I will send you new clothes often,” she said, her voice going a little high, “so make sure to tell us how the weather is. How the winds are, the temp drop at night, we’re sure if they can manage letters and food to you, they can get heated quilts-“

“I’ll let you know every little detail,” said Damian, closing his eyes for patience, “I promise.”

Selina stood in his doorway, obviously wanting to spill out more. She had a hand rubbing the back of her neck for comfort, physical anxiety taking her. Her green eyes, so close to Damian’s own shade, shone with worry. Her short, pixie-like black hair was hardly any longer than her husband’s.

But all the same, she nodded and left, giving him space. Damian glanced wearily at the plate full of raisin-and-quinoa cookies on his nightstand. Alfred had been making his favorites all week.

It felt… good to Damian, that they cared so much. That he _was_ in their thoughts (even in Todd’s own weird way, like when he told Damian the day prior that if he left, he would only be getting Alfred’s stale crackers and not the freshly made ones), but he also needed his space. He needed openness. Fresh air on the breeze. To perhaps sit on a thick branch of a tree and gaze upon miles of scenery unchanged from when it was first finished by God’s own hand.

There was a knock at the door, but he didn’t turn.

Damian sighed tiredly. “Grayson, if that’s you again, I swear-“

“It’s not Grayson.”

Damian stilled. He turned and came across Stephanie Brown standing timidly in his open doorway.

Damian stood up, feeling a little uncomfortable as Stephanie appraised his luggage seat and the minimalistic décor of his room.

She cleared her throat. “Ah, I was taking off for the night, my parents want me back early for my mom’s friend’s bridal shower in the morning,” she said, her hands folded behind her back. “I won’t be back around before you leave, so… I just wanted to say goodbye. And good luck this summer. I really hope you get the break you’re looking for.”

Damian glanced down. He knew there was a little heat in his cheeks. “Thank you,” he muttered. They stood there more awkwardly still.

There had been a time, not long ago, where Damian had developed something akin to a crush on Stephanie Brown. He hadn’t hung around many people socially and she was always at the manor visiting her best friend, Tim. A cool, older, and rather attractive girl who took Damian’s dry humor and snide comments in stride. He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter on the inside when she and Tim made a huge transition from best friends to obvious lovers one magical night when he kissed her. But Damian swallowed that small resentment down long ago.

The current embarrassing part came from Stephanie knowing about his crush all along.

“I know you’re not much of a hugger,” Stephanie started off, raising her arms slowly, “but since you’ll be gone till September?”

Damian went redder. “That’s not necessary,” he said hurriedly.

The corner of Steph’s mouth twisted down. “We’re friends,” she told him in a dejected voice.

Damian swallowed. He wasn’t a physically affectionate person in the least, but he’d gotten used to some manners of it as Cassandra had little mind for personal space. Hesitantly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms awkwardly around his brother’s girlfriend. They parted quickly.

“Have a great time,” she said sincerely, “and _don’t_ get eaten.” She glanced at the sword on his bed behind him, a graduation gift from his father and Selina, to satiate some of his fascination with blades. “And also don’t come back covered in wild animal pelts.”

Damian laughed once. “Thanks Stephanie.”

Stephanie smiled fondly, and with a little sadness, before slowly turning around and making her way out of the room. Damian watched her blonde hair dance behind her.

He took a deep breath. It was just like when he was twelve. That Halloween, the Wayne’s hosted a private party and the family of his father’s best friend, Clark Kent, showed up. Damian couldn’t stop the fondness he had of the girl Kara Danvers. Blonde hair, blue eyes, bright and happy, but also with a note of grounded seriousness in her features. Nor could he stop the jealousy in his heart when Jason dated her shortly after. How playful they were around the manor before it fell apart.

Still… these had just been moments in time. Small crushes. They happened, and you acted on them or you didn’t. Neither one of these girls had been necessarily good for Damian. Nor he for them.

It was best to just let go of things, Damian felt. So sure of himself always, there was a certainty in him that he would never once have that true need of a life-long partner.

He stared at the blade he was gifted, his most treasured possession. The only thing that mattered was his singular, life adventure.

~

The ride to the private Wayne airport had been filled with hassle galore.

First there was his own stepmom’s demanding of everyone being timely (despite them owning the plane so it would just take-off whenever they got there), then there was Alfred trying to secure as much tubaware of food into Damian’s luggage as possible before they left, then there was Todd showing up as late as could be.

And then there was, of course, the reporters.

_“Mr. Wayne, is it true Wayne Enterprises is buying local farms for commercial real estate?”_

_“Is it true your youngest son is leaving because he’s become too much of a handful like Jason Todd before him?”_

_“Mrs. Wayne, coming from the alley ways of Gotham City, how does it feel to wear a twenty-eight thousand dollar dress?”_

_“Did you SLEEP your way to the top?”_

There was no hesitation after that last one. It was just a matter of who got to him first.

Jason slammed his red helmet on the top of that reporter’s head, gashing open his forehead nicely.

“I’ve got no problem buying you a wardrobe in court you son of a fucking-“

“No!” snarled Selina. “Come on. They’re not worth it.”

_“Is that mocking how poor we are compared to the Wayne family?”_

Damian groaned in relief when they finally made their way into the gates of the private Wayne airport. The jet-black luxurious plane was nestled there, ready for take-off. Capable of seating forty, but this time it would be one passenger, and one passenger only.

He turned to the rest of them before making his way up the lift into the plane. This would be his last time seeing them for over ninety days. They stood there, grouped together, gazing at him. Bruce and Selina with a mixture of proud and worry. Dick stood next to Barbara, who looked happy for him, a blanket covering her lap in her wheelchair. Artemis and Jason stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Tim was in front of the pair, a head shorter than both.

Jason nodded. “That’ll do, pig.”

Everyone groaned.

“You’re the worst,” Artemis grumbled to him.

“Write us the first night,” said Selina, “so that way we know the trip at least went okay.”

Damian nodded. He looked to his father.

“The watchtower is over eight hundred thousand acres in,” informed Bruce, “it’s some of the most remote parts of the remote forest in of itself. Please, son… if you leave that tower for any length of time, or for any time at all… take that sword.”

“See?” Dick grinned at Selina. “We told you it would come in handy for him.”

“You’re probably going to see large man-eating spiders,” said Tim, smiling. “Find dozens of skeletons of missing people in its lair.”

“That actually would be pretty cool,” mused Barbara, “like one of Jason’s video games.”

“If you’re done now,” said Damian dryly, “I think I’d rather not prolong this farewell and make leave.”

“Take care, short stack,” grinned Jason, crossing his arms.

“It’s just a transient retreat,” said Damian, “I’ll be back soon.” He glanced at his father and anxious-looking stepmother. “Unless a bear gets me,” he added. He heard his father’s scolding and Selina’s groan along with his brother’s laughter as he turned around.

The family all gave their youngest member a last look before he turned and made his way up the steps. The doors shut behind him. After they backed away a safe distance, Damian watched them wave from a passenger seat until they were out of sight and reclined, thinking of his coming adventure in solitude.


	2. In The Heart of A Secret

Damian did not think he would ever forget how mesmerized he first was standing at the very edge of Azarath’s world-renowned woods. Mist hung in the air between trees that went stories high. Echoes of calls from animals you couldn’t see nor hear from anywhere else in the world rang in his ears.

It was over a week long trek getting to the watch tower that would be his home until September. A cargo truck took him a day or so deep into the forest on dirt roads, but no stable roads had been built any deeper. There weren’t even buildings anywhere within the wood’s perimeter. It was a wonder to Damian how they even got watch towers up.

Once the truck took him as far as it could go, he trekked for days, making camps at sites established previously on maps. Now he wished he had packed even lighter, his arms throbbing from pulling so much weight continuously, often getting caught on the forest floor.

The scenery, however, was already worth it, whichever way he looked. He came across pure ponds, beautiful meadows, gorgeous wildlife still peaceful because they did not know a reason to fear man. An elk once got close enough to allow Damian to scratch its head. He fed it an apple and made his way off again.

At long last, he started breaking out into a bit of a clearing and could make out the tower over the distant trees. As he came upon it, dusk was arriving, giving a gorgeous dim glow on the meadow in front of the tower. It sat up a hill, giving it even more presence. Sixty feet high, a single room was nested at the top. Damian was aching to not only see the view he would have, but finally rest as well. Each day had been so long. He made his way up the mountain of stairs to heaven.

There was a notice on the door: Watchtower Goliath - Ensure Coast Is Clear Before Resting.

Oh, that’s great, thought Damian. He hadn’t considered the deadly spiders and snakes that may have made their way up here, though he probably should have. He opened the door and flicked on the lights, powered by a generator at the base of the tower.

It was a decent room, but less than that what he had back at the manor. Probably twenty by twenty-five feet. Three walls were windows from about waist level up to the ceiling to allow for the constant view needed for the job. The back wall had a full-size bed pressed against it with a dresser, a desk, and a bulletin board that held a large map. The coast was also clear of cobwebs or any other lifeforms besides him, but none of these things held his attention.

_That view._

The hills sprawling to the right were glorious. Old oak trees scattered everywhere. A lake down in a valley the distance gleamed even in the fading sun. And the mountains of Azarath much further beyond that, still in view. A sprawling view he hadn’t been able to take in since he left Nanda Parbat. It was serenity. It was a dream come true.

At long last. Peace and quiet.

“Finally,” Damian whispered to himself.

_“Hello?”_ came an irksome female voice, causing Damian to jump. _“Hello? Watchtower Goliath? This is Oversight calling for the third time today. Have you made it there yet?”_

Damian’s head whipped to the direction of the voice. There was a yellow-and-black walkie talkie on the desk. His supervisor for the summer was trying to get ahold of him. He hadn’t been told anything about them.

Feeling sour at the transient bliss, he walked up to it. There could’ve been a few more moments without interruption. But as she said it was the third time calling of the day, he figured he’d better respond before they sent a search party out for him. Damian picked up the walkie-talkie and held it to his mouth.

“This is Goliath,” he said, trying to keep agitation out of his tone.

The woman sounded relieved. _“Oh, good, you finally appeared. Normally they get there about midday of the fourth day after the truck drops them off at Needle Point. I was starting to get worried we lost another.”_

Damian didn’t know if she was joking or not. “I apologize for the delay. I ran into some interesting wildlife on my way in.”

_“No worries. I see you haven’t run into the man-eating iguanas yet.”_

Again, Damian didn’t know if she was joking or not. “There’s always tomorrow,” he said.

The radio gave a huff of laughter. _“Relax. I’m messing with you. It’s going to be a long summer if you don’t find a sense of humor or wonder out here.”_ She paused for a moment. “ _My name is Emiko,”_ she said, “ _I’m the supervisor of a few of the towers spread throughout the area. You’re actually the closest one to me. I’m just over the hills to your right.”_

Damian glanced at the sprawling hills again. It would’ve taken maybe an hour or two to climb over them. He hasn’t sure why there were two watchtowers so close together.

_“And you are...?”_

He wanted to sigh. “Damian,” he mumbled.

_“Well alright, Damian,”_ she sounded happy, _“welcome to your first night! That trek usually decommissions people for a day or two, so it’s alright if you sleep tomorrow away, okay?”_

Damian wanted to argue against that, but relented as it might’ve been pointless. “Thanks boss,” he said.

She laughed and cut her radio off with an _“Oversight out!”_

Sleep was edging ever closer of engulfing Damian. His head was aching for a pillow to lie down on. But he chose to unpack instead, placing clothes in the dresser drawers and the suitcase under the bed for extra storage of everything he was sent. There was even a mini-fridge.

He drug the desk to the opposite wall, so that way when he sat there writing or reading, he could look up and have a view of the lake and mountains at all times. He sat there now after getting everything situated, enjoying the last light of dusk, the sunset that could barely be seen over the trees. The forest’s beauty was majestic at all times, it seemed.

Damian cut the lights off and just as he was planning on collapsing onto the bed as the final bits of the sunset faded, there was a movement down in the plains. Coming up from the dip that lead to the valley of the lake was a stunning, gigantic bear.

Damian immediately felt wide awake and alert. He stood still in the darkness of his room. It had been ages since he was this close to a deadly creature this large, though it was still probably forty yards away. The great bear cantered closer before turning and making its way into the trees in front of Damian’s watchtower. It appeared to be walking with a great limp, on the verge of dropping hard every time it stepped that Damian was sure it was soon to collapse. He watched it disappear into the darkness that sundered the trees.

Damian hesitated. Should he radio this in? Would there be anything they could even do? The bear was massive, but looked on the verge of death. He didn’t know. And then he saw something that made him lose all concentration.

There was someone quickly chasing after it. He saw a cloaked figure running behind the bear with no flashlight, despite the only light coming from the moon and stars. They ran into the woods where the bear disappeared into fearlessly.

It took a moment for Damian to gather his thoughts. He didn’t know if that was another lookout or not, but whoever they were may need help. Damian grabbed his katana and a flashlight and bolted out of the tower, down the stairs onto the plains. He turned on the flashlight, keeping it pointed directly in front of him so he could watch where he was going. Nearing the woods now, he slowed down. There was a faint, purple-blueish glow emitting from the depths of the darkness.

Damian cut the light off and moved in even slower. He concealed himself behind the first tree, peeking around the edge of it, sword at the ready.

The bear launched itself like a bullet out of a gun from the shadows. Damian narrowly avoided the massive beast, throwing himself against the tree for cover. But as he kept his senses, he realized the bear had made no attempt for him at all. Instead, it seemed to be happily playing in the tall grass, youthful and energetic as could be, no hint of an injury about it. Damian watched it for a moment longer, feeling a little stunned joy at the sight himself before hearing a crack in the darkness behind him.

He whipped around, shinning his flashlight into the spot where the bear came from, catching the hem of a purple cloak vanishing behind a tree, like a hunter caught and retreating.

A violent chill went down Damian’s spine. Someone else was out here, meters away from him, and did not want to be seen. What’s more, he was sure if he approached them, they would be able to outmaneuver him in the darkness.

The bear was now at a safe distance away. Damian rushed for the safety of his tower, constantly throwing a glance over his shoulder to keep a watch on that spot of the woods. All the while as Damian made his way across the meadow and up the stairs, he could not shake the feeling he was now being watched…

** DAY 2 **

****

****

The next morning came with a racket of the birds, at least twenty different kinds all singing their own songs. Damian wasn’t sure if he’d get used to that, but the first thoughts the moment he awoke was the previous night.

He wanted to examine the scene the moment the sun was up. So he waited patiently for the sunrise to come and go, despite those moments being one of the most desired views he sought when he came here. The moment the sun was higher in the sky, he grabbed his walkie-talkie and his katana, just in case, and made his way out to the scene.

There were tracks of the bear’s massive paw left imprinted in the ground. Large droplets of blood every half foot made a perfect trail to follow into the trees to the exact spot it must’ve planted itself onto its belly. 

Damian glanced in every direction. He didn’t have that feeling that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up like last night, like he was being watched, but he wasn’t going to be careless out here. He couldn’t even assume the bear wouldn’t return.

He gazed at the small portion of dry blood on the thick grass before walking away. Something had wounded it greatly. Or someone. Poachers, perhaps?

The day was beautiful and breezy, just as his father said it would be this time of year. He zipped up his red jacket, glancing to the glistening lake in the distance. The wind swayed the tall grass. It would’ve been a perfect day for exploring.

But Damian no longer knew at all what lay hidden in these woods. Were there people? He thought hard of what he saw last night. The hem of a purple cloak had definitely been there.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie the moment he got back into his watchtower and radioed for the supervisor, Emiko.

It takes her a moment to answer. _“Hello? Goliath? Is that you?”_

Who else would it be? Damian thought.

“I’m just calling for a check-in,” he said casually at first, “I’m supposed to do that daily, right?”

_“Well, yeah, I just figured you’d take the day to catch up on rest. The last guy slept for almost twenty hours when he first got here.”_

“I don’t have that in me,” said Damian, then considered before saying, “plus, I saw a bear last night. It was right outside of my tower. Figured I should report that as you’re close by as well.”

_“Aw man. They get so massive this time of year. It’s just far enough out of winter to where they’ve had time to bulk up again. How big was it?”_

“As large as I’ve ever seen,” said Damian, “on television or not. It ran right past me.”

_“You were down there with it?!”_

“I was exploring,” said Damian.

Emiko sounded livid. _“Yeah, that’s going to be a firm hell no from now on. You under any circumstances do not ‘explore’ at night. You had to have read that in the pamphlet before you took this job.”_

“The sun light hadn’t faded yet,” Damian defended himself, “I could see it coming. I thought it was injured, but she turned out okay.”

Emiko groaned. _“Okay, fine, just don’t do it again. Whatever the legends say about this place, people *do* turn up missing, even lookouts. I swear this forest has twenty apex predators.”_

If only that many, Damian thought. He was on the verge of telling her about the stranger in the forest, but something held him back. The bear was definitely injured, though, the last Damian had seen it, was completely fine. If the person in the purple cloak had been a poacher, surely, _surely_ they would’ve finished the bear off then and there?

And how was it healed in the first place… He saw the blood himself not half an hour ago…

He tried to push it out of his mind as the day progressed. An attempt to get lost in the view was futile was his inner-eye saw nothing but purple cloaks behind dark trees.

Giving up, he decided to write the letters he promised to have initially done so yesterday. Pulling out his favorite writing pen and some college-ruled paper, Damian addressed a letter to each of his parents, Richard, and Alfred, telling them all was well and that the scenery was just as he needed. He decided to mention the bear run in his letter to Selina.

Even as he readied for bed, Damian not once had the feeling that eyes were on him, something sinister in the darkness watching and waiting. And other than an elk, a couple of large eagles in the far of distance, and something that looked like a monkey in the trees, he saw no dangerous and deadly creatures stalking the woods near his temporary home. He tucked into bed feeling that perhaps everything was just as it should be.

** DAY 3 **

****

****

The nearby lake was crystalline sapphire waters surrounded by the bright greenery hills, and only about a three mile walk.

Damian made his way there the next afternoon with a small bag of fruits after leaving the letters in a drop box at the top of the hill (the same one he would get supplies from during this run of this venture). They came every couple of days to deliver food, letters, equipment and medicine.

He had seen Emiko’s own watchtower in the short distance. It would’ve taken maybe an hour to walk to from here.

He had no desire to. The lake was much more compelling. He found a log to sit on like a park bench and rested, watching the water, enjoying the breezy day out.

_Quack._

Damian glanced in surprise to his left. There sat a full-grown white duck, just staring at him. He hadn’t even heard it approach.

They stared at each other, unblinkingly, in that way geese do, with either an air of obliviousness or intensity, no one knew.

Damian tossed it a cranberry, which it snagged in its honker before it ever touched the ground.

“You live around here?” asked Damian, throwing the creature another one. “Me too, now. Guess we’re neighbors. What should we call you? Lavender? No,” he muttered. “Teacups?” he kept on, throwing another cranberry. “No… I got it!” He said happily. “We’ll call you Ana. A girl named Ana in my old class wore a sweater once a week with a large goose on the front. You’re like a better version of her.”

He stood up and duped the rest of the dried fruits onto the ground. The goose absolutely attacked them. He watched fondly as it pecked at the dirt there, as if some of the cranberries and grapes had dug their way to safety away from it.

And then Damian felt it all over again. That chilling feeling that he was being watched. He glanced at the woods and internally cursed as the trees were too clustered to make anything out. He can only tell that there are no sudden movements behind the thick oak tree trunks. No gleaming light from a rifle or blade. It really could just be an animal, inspecting him to make sure that _he_ wasn’t a threat.

Though the feeling doesn’t leave him the entire way back to his tower


	3. A Curiosity Unlike Any Other

** DAY 5 **

****

“Is that the last of the safety-boxes?” asked Damian.

_“Should be,”_ the radio answered back, _“they don’t really get used much, but they’re still handy for emergencies.”_

Damian glanced at the last one he’d just finished stocking, less than a third of a mile from the lake. He’d spent the entire day walking back and forth from the drop-off at the top of the hill and these safety-boxes through his area in the forest, dropping supplies like bandages, ropes, and water into them before locking them up so things like gigantic bears couldn’t get into them by accident.

Damian glanced up and saw an animal like an otter with a squirrel’s tale watching him from the branches of a nearby tree. The fauna of Azarath was different than any he’d ever seen.

** DAY 7 **

_“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”_

“What?” said Damian, eyebrows crinkling. Emiko had just been interrogating him about his home life to start off the day.

_Oh, please,”_ it sounded like she was smiling, _“four brothers and a sister, your name is Damian, and your first package was a cashmere sweater. You’re Damian Wayne, aren’t you? Bruce Wayne’s biological son?”_

Damian bit back a curse.

“ _What are you doing out here?”_

“I came for some peace and quiet,” he said pointedly, irritated he couldn’t escape the looming towers of Wayne Enterprises.

_“Hey, I get it, no worries,”_ radioed Emiko, _“I came out here when I graduated last year for just a little bit of an escape myself. And it gets addicting, let me tell you. I’m… I’m Emiko Queen, Oliver Queen’s little sister.”_

Damian said nothing, wondering if this was supposed to be some massive, dramatic reveal.

_“It’s just… good,”_ she decided, “ _good to know that of all places there’s someone out here who understands. Who gets it.”_

Damian severely hoped she didn’t believe that this bonded them.

“ _Okay, I’ll let you get back to your day. But, maybe, I’ll… see you at the drop box sometime.”_

“Perhaps,” said Damian, “Goliath out.”

** DAY 9 **

****

****

The day was pretty uneventful. Damian made sure the line of trees as far as he could see were untouched and that the sky was unblemished with smoke in the distance before he made his way back down to the lake.

Ana the goose waddled over as soon as he sat down on his tree trunk. Setting down the katana, he took his bag of fruit and began sharing it with his new sitting companion.

_Quack._

“Quiet you,” Damian muttered, “or no cranberries.”

The goose stayed silent, patiently waiting. He tossed her a fruit.

People in the inner city of Gotham fed geese at the park bread all of the time. It’s ignorant, Damian knew. Bread was bad for geese. It could grow mold quickly and cause them to become malnourished. So he kept the bread for himself and split the dried fruits.

It’s as he begins splitting it that he gets that odd feeling that he’s being watched again. Though this time he doesn’t turn. He sits there with his goose and enjoys the view of the lake.

** DAY 15 **

****

****

****

_“Gooood morning sunshineeee!”_

Damian grimaced at his walkie-talkie. He’d been up for hours. Even without that, he didn’t appreciate the nonprofessional way Emiko had begun addressing him of late. A part of him wondered whether she was the one watching him from a distance, with a pair of binoculars or something.

He slipped off the railing outside and went back into the watchtower, finding a shirt to throw on and grabbing the walkie-talkie.

“Emiko,” he says in a clipped tone, “How is everything on your end?”

_“Oooh, I like it when you take charge.”_

Damian frowned while she laughed. _“Everything is fine, silly. Don’t forget today is drop-off day. I’ll probably be up there around noon,”_ she trailed off, leaving the suggestiveness hanging in the air.

Damian quickly planned around it.

He spent the day scouting the woods more, coming across a sort of den that he would’ve liked to explore. He wondered later if there would be perhaps an animal migration through the plains this summer.

All in all, he felt considerably happy with his escape as he made his way to the drop-off at the top of the hill, well past mid-day.

On top of supplies, his family’s first letters had arrived, along with some books from Bruce, Tim, Selina, and some from Dick and Barbara.

His father said the run-in-with-a-bear joke was not at all funny. He’d nearly gave his stepmother a heart attack and Bruce had to physically stop her from setting a plan in motion that would have Damian home by the end of the week. Damian decided to mention it in a letter back strictly to his father that it had not been a joke, but Selina need never know.

Richard and Barbara were thinking of him. Though in the midst of planning their wedding for late September, they would be there at the airport when he arrived back home and would stay with the family for a few days on his return.

Tim mainly teased Damian with using all of his belongings while he was away. Damian grit his teeth, but for no good reason, as he knew Selina and Alfred would never allow that.

Alfred told him he sent a small care package of sweets that should keep for a week or so. He also informed Damian that Jason was preparing to propose to Artemis. Despite Jason being by far the most annoying sibling of them all, Damian hoped it went well.

And Cassandra was just happy that he was happy. Though she said she missed her chess buddy. She had been downtown a few days prior of sending the letter with father at his office and can kind of understand why he took a retreat.

Damian set their letters aside and sat at his desk, drawing the landscape in front of him, for the first time thinking more of home than the scenery.

** DAY 17 **

****

****

Damian woke up to storm clouds blocking the sunrise. He radios it in to Emiko, who answered groggily and grumpy from being woken up. She says the radar she has at her lookout says the storm should last a day or so.

So in just a couple of hours, bulleting rain is lashing against his windows and the winds were howling. Lightning flickered multiple times a minutes across the sky and Damian tried his hardest for those two days to focus on reading a novel while he still had light, unable to see anything in the darkness that stayed outside.

** DAY 21 **

****

****

Damian was by the lake again. Despite it being a sunny day in July, Azarath was colder this time of year, dipping into the low fifties at night now, mid sixties during the day, and he enjoyed it. He wasn’t sure if it ever got that warm in northern Europe anyways.

Sitting at his tree stump again, Damian tossed dried fruits and nuts into the lake for Ana the goose, feeling bad as one plunked her on the head causing her to stare at him rather in an accusatory blank way rather than retrieve it from the water.

“Sorry,” chuckled Damian. He drifted off, watching the cloudy sky above him and enjoying the gentle breeze.

He hadn’t noticed the heavy, slow steps until they were right up on him. His gaze came back down to Earth as the massive brown bear he saw his first night was less than ten feet from his right, facing out to the lake. It turned its head in his direction.

Damian strangely had a sense of calm. He felt no aggression from this animal as they stared at one another.

“Don’t mess with me and I won’t mess with you,” he muttered. His katana was resting against the trunk next to his knee. If the bear acted, he’d probably be able to get a precise stab into its torso.

But it was unneeded. The brown bear turned its attention to the lake again and began splashing into the water, hunting for fish. Ana the goose was long gone.

Damian watched the bear until a movement catches his eye. He flashed his gaze right above it to the woods beyond, where he saw a branch bopping with unnatural movement in this light wind…

** Day 23 **

****

****

“And you’ll want to head back south,” Damian was saying, “about ten miles in you’ll find a trail that can take you back to Needle Point.”

“South?” asked the confused camper, pointing east. It was the first time he’d come across anyone. It was a young couple, probably about Jason’s age, who must’ve taken a few wrong turns to end up this deep. The guy wore a hipster fanny pack, high-waisted jeans, and far too much cologne to go trekking in the forest. His partner looked much more like the traditional hiker, although a little sillier than most at the moment, twirling her hair as she appraised Damian, but her boyfriend had the map.

Damian pointed in the correct direction. “South,” he said, trying to not show his amusement at the guy’s confusion.

“Thank you so much,” the girl said, smiling with all of her teeth.

“Anytime,” said Damian dryly. “Just watch out on your way. There’s a massive bear around here.”

“Bear?” the guy yelped.

“It’s fine,” the girl said, “we have bear spray. Come on.”

Damian shifted from foot-to-foot. “That’s good and well, but try not to use it if you don’t have to. I’ve been right next to it. It isn’t aggressive.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Of course not. You’ve been right next to it? Wow. So you’re like, a real _grizzled_ kind of-“

“If we can go now,” her boyfriend said pointedly, frowning. “I really don’t want to run into any more of those boa constrictors.”

His girlfriend rolled her eyes. “It was a _baby_ one. Anyways, thank you for all of your help,” she said to Damian, waving goodbye. He watched them make their way off, both beginning to bicker as soon as they thought he was out of ear-shot. When he reported the situation to Emiko later, she laughed hysterically.

_“That’s fucking rich! I had a couple of lost hikers myself about four, five days ago. I swear I couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times they hinted they’d like to take a breather somewhere with a bed.”_

Damian didn’t see how that particularly related, but he asked, “They made you uncomfortable? Are you alright over there?”

_“Pfft. I can take care of myself just fine. Two out-of-shape forty year old lost hikers aren’t enough to scare me.”_

At least she was tough, Damian thought.

_“Was she pretty?”_ Emiko suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?” said Damian.

_“The girl! Was she pretty hot?”_

Damian didn’t see how that was neither here-nor-there. “I didn’t exactly check her out,” he said. All he could recall was her brown hair she kept twirling around her finger.

Emiko sighed over the radio. _“Poor girl.”_

“She was with her boyfriend,” said Damian, confused, “they may have been lost, but I doubt she was that unhappy.”

_“Oh, baby doll,”_ said Emiko, and it sounded like she was purring, _“you have no idea the fantasies some people want fulfilled.”_

This was perhaps the most uncomfortable Damian had felt since arriving here. He didn’t know how to respond to that at all.

_“Anyway, her shot missed. Maybe the next lost hikers will get lucky. I better start making lunch. Oversight out.”_

Damian put his walkie-talkie down and walked over to the windows facing out at the lake, lost in thought.


	4. A Surprising Find

** DAY 27 **

****

****

Damian was reading a mystery murder book that Tim sent. It featured ten different astronauts who were trying to figure out which one among them killed the poor guy in the red suit. He thought it was silly, but the read quickly became addicting a few short chapters in.

_“You ought not to stay so quiet, you know. You’ll get driven mad.”_

Damian sighed, already exhausted by her. He picked up the walkie-talkie.

“I was reading,” he said shortly, “my brother sent me a book in the care package yesterday.”

_“Oh, cool, which one?”_

Does she bother the other lookouts this much? “Timothy Drake. He’s the short one.”

_“Aw. I never read anything about him. The only brother of yours that I ever met was Richard Grayson. He was with your father when my brother invited them to the house one night to close a business deal. A fine dinner and three four-hundred-dollar bottles of wine later, your family and mine finally connected.”_

“That makes me so happy, I can’t even begin to tell you,” said Damian wearily.

_“Ha-ha-ha, alright fine, be that way. At least you haven’t been driven mad enough out here to have left sarcasm behind.”_

Damian glanced out to the scenery from his desk again. “Still no sign of fire,” he said, hoping she would catch the hint.

_“Day is still young.”_

Damian sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that week and closed his book after marking the page.

“You’re right,” he said, “I’m going to try to get some more exploring in before the daylight fades.”

_“Do you ever just stay put in that tower?”_

“If I wanted strictly a view, I would have bought a condo outside of Cobblepot Park in Gotham,” said Damian, “I enjoy the forest.”

Emiko sighed as well, obviously frustrated with something. _“Have fun then.”_ She cut off her radio without any further words.

Damian briefly considered just laying back in bed and reading some more. But as the woods to his far left were still tempting mysteries, he grabbed a water jug, slung his katana over his back and made way out the door.

Dozens of different trees created this sort of natural arboretum. Ancient oak trees connected to colorful ones that resembled Japanese Maple trees and Pando trees. Damian wondered if there had ever been a study conducted on all the different type that grew here, but he doubted it. Azarath would surely have much more visitors. It wasn’t even in the top ten most camped at locations of the planet. Like the Amazon, there was as much mystery and danger as allure.

He crossed a stream as a large golden eagle came flying in to an oak tree just before him carrying what appeared at a glance to be a small wild pig.

Damian watched as it landed in a large next thirty feet up and began tearing into its kill. Damian loved birds. He wasn’t positive why. Perhaps because they were the most free creatures on the planet. Also, condors and eagles were some of the most efficient animals alive.

He was just above to move on when he heard a thud and whipped around as fast as he could, hand on the hilt of his katana.

Nothing, other than a large leaf bouncing. By the wind? He didn’t think so… What the hell had caused that thud?

His emerald eyes glanced sideways, then up and down. He paused. Something was glistening on the forest floor.

Walking slowly forward, sword drawn, he knelt down. A perfectly circular ruby red stone was lying on the forest floor. Despite the shades from the tall trees all around it, it shone beautifully.

Damian jolted up and pointed his sword in all directions. He checked behind the trees, but no one was there. Not even a foot imprint.

“What the hell,” he muttered to himself. He knelt down again and picked the stone up. It was nearly as large as his palm.

“You don’t come naturally,” mused Damian. He pocketed the stone and made his way back to the watchtower, constantly checking his flank and six. Though no one dared to approach, he was positive this time he was being watched.

** DAY 28 **

****

****

The ruby red stone stared back at Damian from his desk.

It was all he could think about. The stone _could’ve_ been Emiko’s and it _could_ have been her that night. She definitely has the means to afford a massive rock like this. And with how clingy she’s been over the radio, it wasn’t beyond reason that she would be keeping an eye on him.

But that just didn’t sit well with Damian. Why would she hide behind trees and help injured bears? She may be a supervisor here, but she didn’t seem to really care about the fauna nor plant-life one way or another. He crossed his arms in consideration of perhaps there really was another person out here. He placed the stone in a drawer by his bed.

_“Helllooooo.”_

Think of the devil’s annoying sister and she shall appear, Damian thought. He picked up the radio.

“Hey.”

_“So look,”_ Emiko started off, _“I was wondering… It’s actually my birthday in a couple of days. My brother and mom sent me a bottle of wine so I could have some irresponsible fun while I’m out here. Would you care to have a drink with me?”_

Damian was caught by surprise. “I’m sixteen,” he said.

_“So? Who would have to know? We come here to get away, so we’re not scrutinized for every little misstep. Come on… take a misstep with me.”_

Damian grimaced. “Look, I-“ he stopped as there was a loud popping sound in the distance. He watched as a sparkler went skyward over by the lake and popped into purple fireworks.

“Holy shit.”

_“What? What is it?”_

“Are you not seeing this?” asked Damian. “Look north.” More sparklers went over a mile high into the sky before it exploded in purple sparks.

_“Fireworks?! Are you fucking kidding me! Why?”_

“I don’t know,” said Damian, “I’ll go down there and confiscate them.”

_“Be careful! And take your radio with you. I need to keep up with everything about this. These idiots are lofting potential fire starters into the air.”_

Damian went as fast as he could. Trekking the quickest route down that he knew. It seemed to be coming right from the lake. Though when he arrives, there’s no one to be found. No campsite, no littering. Nothing.

He radios this back to Emiko.

“ _Just head back to the watchtower. And keep your eyes open.”_

Damian agreed and put his radio out. He stared at Ana the goose who looked expectantly back at him.

“Did you see anything?” he asked boredly. He turned and made his way back up to his tower slowly, trying to sniff out any fresh trail of hikers, but coming away with nothing.

Stopping short when he looked up at this watchtower and saw the door was swung wide open.

Damian didn’t bother with hesitation or playing it safe. He bolted up the stairs, sword drawn.

His room was ransacked. The drawers to the dresser were yanked open and the contents were all over the floor. His suitcase was out in the middle of the room and thrown open as well, everything inside a jumbled mess.

He had a sneaking suspicion. He glanced into the open drawer by his bed and found it empty. The stone was gone.

After alerting Emiko of the intrusion, she freaked out, saying she’d be there soon, but Damian tells her to stay put in case someone is still out there. She called it in to a ranger, but it would be days until they would be there to scope the area.

“They were probably just pranksters anyway,” said Damian soothingly. “Nothing is missing.”

_“I’ve had those on other lookouts before, but they never crossed into vandalism. Just no matter what, be careful!”_

** DAY 29 **

****

****

Damian found what he said to Emiko untrue the next morning.

As he reorganized all of his belongings, Damian noticed a few things were missing. A few of the letters from his family had disappeared. A couple of books as well. Odd.

He shuffled the letters together and then organized by date of when they were written. Nearly half were gone.

He decides to jam his chair against the doorknob to his room, since there’s no lock, at night from now on. It was just a precaution advised by Emiko. Though he had every reason to be, and chills _did_ keep crawling down his spine, Damian didn’t particularly feel unsafe. There were just things he felt like he was missing that he needed to know.

In a unique manner, he grabbed the walkie-talkie.

“Emiko?” The response was almost instant.

“ _Yup, I’m here da- Damian!”_

“I was wondering about something,” said Damian, “could you, by chance, fill me in on the lore of this place? The history of Azarath?”

_“Sure. Do you want to know some dry historical facts or the folk lore?”_

“A bit of both,” replied Damian.

_“Alright! Get settled in for story night on this spooky evening. Now a good combination of both is that it is recorded when settlers tried to, well, settle here in that late 1500s, they would set camps up right outside of the forest to avoid the bears and big cats that prowled at night. But horrible things still happened at night every time they did so. Settlers would go missing. Massive fires would blaze out of nowhere. Animals would go out of their way and leave the safety of the woods to enter camps and drag people off into the night.”_

Just like what happened with his father’s company decades ago, thought Damian.

_“So Azarath was mainly left alone. Even now, this country over seven million square miles large is only inhabited by a couple hundred thousand people in cities right on the borders, far away from these woods. These watchtowers are less than ten years old. Just some people wanted to ensure the safety of the forest. Nobody thought they’d be able to actually build them, but it happened without any dinks.”_

Curious. “What could you tell me about the far-fetched folk tales?” asked Damian. “Like the legends of healing and something about a temple and monks,” he said, recalling what Jason and Tim had both said at that dinner table a week before he left Gotham.

_“The temple is just a myth caused from settlers of the old days saying they heard voices from the forest at night,”_ Emiko said casually, _“some said they even saw people in white robes walking between the trees. It’s rubbish. But I have heard lots of tales of the healing. I’ve even spoken to a few campers who claim it’s happened. Some right around this area as well. The guy who had this job before me had a lot of them he’d heard in three years. Stories that people with joint or back pains would camp out here and their suffering came to an end. People with lifelong disease or illnesses were cured. I actually had a chick my first month who was crying of happiness. She claimed she was deaf for nine years and woke up on her third morning to the sound of the birds singing. Cool, but I think she made it up.”_

“What makes you think that?” Damian wondered.

_“Oh, uh, I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound believable. Right?”_

Damian swallowed, thinking of that bear. “Right,” he said. “Look, Emiko, thank you for indulging me. It adds to the enchantment of being out here.”

_“It does?”_

“It does,” confirmed Damian, “but I probably need to get to sleep now. Goliath out.” He turned off his radio without waiting for her goodbye and walked over to the window. He stared at the dark spot in the woods that bear disappeared into his first night here and, as another chill shivered its way down his back, wondered if perhaps someone was looking back at him right now…


	5. Raven

** DAY 35 **

It’s another food supply and letter day for Damian. As he make it to the top of the hill and opens the drop-box, Emiko radios him.

_“I’m watching youuuu,”_ she teases. _“I like your pullover.”_

“Thank you,” replied Damian. She was making him uncomfortable again. Ever since their story time, she’s been radioing him several times a day, being far too personal about information shared. She asked him about any flings back home or crushes. He told her of Kara, not wanting to admit he once liked the girl that seemed bound to be his future sister-in-law. She’d told him about a lesbian phase she went through in high school, not that he had asked. She revealed to him that she liked standing outside naked in the mornings for a free feeling, obviously trying to gauge a reaction.

Damian opened the box and groaned. “They left canned sausages again,” he grumbled. Damian was a vegetarian.

_“I’ll get that taken care of,”_ said Emiko. _“But I like sausage. I’ll trade you for my fruit if you walk on over here.”_

“No, that’s alright,” said Damian quickly, sensing danger, “you need a bit of a balanced diet out here.”

Back in his watchtower, he read the letters sent. Jason finally had written, though he vexingly wondered how Damian’s masturbating three times a day was going. Damian just rolled his eyes at that, then stilled at the bottom of the letter.

_P.S- I’m engaged now_.

Damian smiled as he read on to the others, laughing out loud as Grayson wrote that Jason dropped the ring when he got down on one knee. Richard also wanted to know how his days were going and if he practicing with that sword any.

Selina and his father worry about the tropical storm they had heard pass over Azarath not long ago. Alfred wants to know if he’s taken to eating meat again, making kills with his katana, and roasting the carcasses over open flames.

It’s nice family talk with nobody talking. And as Damian writes back, he feels eyes on him all over again, but doesn’t look up from his desk, happily addressing his eldest brother first.

If he had looked up, however, he would have seen them then. Just in front of the trees enough to be caught in the moonlight, gazing wonderingly at the handsome boy with his emerald eyes cast down, perhaps even wanting to be seen…

** DAY 41 **

_“Emiko to Goliath, hellooo?”_

Damian ignored her attempted conversation starters. They had gotten to an unbearable point. Two days ago, Emiko, saying that Damian was in the wrong for wishing her happy birthday on the incorrect date, demanded he go over there and make it up to her.

He couldn’t even remember how he wiggled his way out of that one. But he was fed up with narrowly avoiding her. A tipping point was coming, and it was sure to make the rest of his stay here difficult.

Damian stretched out on his bed further, relaxing with his feet up as he read a new book Cassandra had sent. An amusing tale about some “Dark Wanderer” who stalked Gotham at night for criminals to do the job the police couldn’t.

As if, Damian smiled to himself.

That’s when he heard it.

A gunshot clear as day on that cloudless morning. He jolted up, watching a flock of birds leave the lake area in a panic.

He grabbed the radio as he threw on what he needed. “I’m checking it out!”

_“BE CAREFUL!”_

He had no idea what he could do honestly. But it was his job to watch the forest and potential poachers had made their way to the lake right under his nose.

Sprinting down the stairs and across the plains, sword in hand, Damian used the soft grass as much as he could to mask his approach. He felt sure he could apprehend the gunmen. Would they turn their muzzles on him when he ordered them to hand over their weapons? He couldn’t risk that. He’d have to strike first, fast and hard.

Close to the lake, he found a single camo camp littered with beer cans all around it. He deduced it was newly set up from just that day. There hadn’t even been a campfire made.

He found the lake just as deserted. Not a soul in sight, but he knew someone must’ve been around there.

Damian strayed in carefully and found a long rifle laying on the ground. Damian knelt down and examined it. It was still cocked and reloaded, ready for another firing. Who would’ve just dropped it like this?

He got up and walked closer to the water’s edge, pausing when he caught sight of a fluff of white feathers in the shallow water.

“No!” Damian yelled, running now. He bent down and hauled in Ana the goose, blood oozing out of her central area.

She was still breathing. But the water made it hard to tell where exactly the blood was coming from.

Damian glared angrily in all directions hoping to see the attacker. But still not a soul in sight. He gazed back down at Ana the goose and had a thought.

“Safety box,” he mumbled under his breath. There would be supplies he could use to fix her up maybe. He set Ana down by the tree stump he often used as a bench, hoping nothing would be able to find her in her weakened state and ran off.

Fortunately, there was one very close, not a third of a mile away. He was able to get there in around a minute, twirling the code in on the lock and springing it open.

“Bandages, pain medication,” he grumbled. That was all they had. Nothing for a stint in case the hunter hit a wing. No adrenaline needle of course. Perhaps he could wrap her and get her to swallow a few of the pain pills.

He made his way back, hurrying as fast as he could, until a sight in the clearing caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

A purple cloak with the hood up was kneeling down at the exact spot Ana should be with their back to Damian.

He didn’t know what to do. Obviously the person hadn’t seen him yet. Flashes of that first night came to his mind. The hem of a purple cloak whipping behind a tree in the dead of night. Whoever this person was, they’d obviously been aware of Damian the entire time he’d been here…

Every paranoia he’d had over the last month and a half had become true. He watched the figure with baited breath. A moment later, the back straightened and Ana the goose was flapping her wings jubilantly, free of blood and pain. The figure stood. It and Damian both watched the goose fly away.

The figure in the cloak made to step away and Damian figured it was now or never.

“Hey!” he shouted, already starting to jog.

The figure practically jumped out of its skin. They turned towards Damian, jaw dropped open and eyes widened in frantic surprise, as if they were a crook caught in a spotlight. Though the hood was low, the mysterious stranger was unmistakably female. The cloak wrapped around her shoulders went all the way to her ankles and she wore a sort of corset of the same shade underneath. Her legs were completely exposed with only a sheer stocking-like cover over them. Damian faltered his steps at first look of her. When she turned to make a dash for it, Damian quickly regained his composure.

“You!” he shouted again. “Stop!”

She led a chase into the woods, throwing distressed glances over her shoulder. She was moving, but Damian was very fast and gaining on her. A part of him wanted to yell out to her to watch where she was going and that there was a bear in this area, but of course she already knew.

“Stop,” Damian tried again, “I just want to ask you some questions!”

She threw another glance over her shoulders only to see him gaining on her. Her panic-stricken state of mind caused a misstep as before she turned her head back forward, the girl’s foot caught in a tree root and she fell to the ground, ankle twisting with a painful snap.

“Shit,” said Damian as he finally caught up to her. She was laying on the leafy forest floor, not looking up and reaching for her ankle. “Are you okay?”

She spared him a mean glance. Though, despite the expression, Damian felt amazed. Her eyes were nearly the exact same shade as the cloak and corset she wore, shining like amethyst gems.

“There was no need to run,” Damian tried defending his chasing her, “I only needed to ask you a few questions. And I’m sure you know about what.”

Her eyes went to the left and right of him, as if searching for an animal to help her out. They came back to Damian, looking disappointed. “What do you want?” she muttered. She had a deep monotone, but still somehow lovely sort of voice.

“Well, first off, are you o-“ he stopped as he recognized something on her apparel. A circular red stone that held the front of her cloak together. “It _was_ you!” he said. “The stone was yours. You broke into my watchtower!”

“You stole from me,” she tried accusing.

“I didn’t exactly find an owner anywhere in sight,” said Damian, agitated. “Why have you been hiding from me this entire time? Who are you?”

“I never hide,” the girl said, her eyes narrowing.

“Let’s pretend for a second like that’s true and your cloak hasn’t been giving you away as you disappear behind trees,” said Damian dryly. The girl looked move venomous now more than ever. “Why didn’t you just come to my tower and ask for it back when you realized I had it? I would’ve given it to you.”

The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. “It’s a valuable stone in your world. You wouldn’t have.”

“Money doesn’t mean anything to me,” Damian told her, “My name is Damian Wayne.” He stared at her. She had about as little response to that as hhe had to learning Emiko was a Queen.

“You don’t even know who the Wayne’s are, do you..?”

“Surnames prove nothing,” said Raven, trying to cover her tracks.

“Well, you’re right about that at least,” said Damian. He glanced at her ankle. “That is definitely twisted. I have some medical supplies nearby.”

“ _No,”_ the girl said, “I have a camp. I have some there.”

“Okay,” said Damian, playing along, “where’s your camp at? I’ll help you back there as your ankle is twisted.”

“It’s too far out of your zone,” she said hastily, “on the other side of the mountain.”

Damian sighed. She must not get caught often. “Really? You made camp _fifty miles_ away?”

The girl glanced at the ground, her teeth grinding in a snarl.

Damian studied her for a moment before offering her his hand. “Just let me help you.”

She stared at it a moment. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hand on his and he pulled her up.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said as he wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Her bare arms were slender, but toned with muscle. Her hands were gloved in purple as well.

He ignored her statement. “So what do we call you?”

“We?” There was strong panic in her voice.

“Poor choice of words,” said Damian, “it’s just me out here.”

The girl was silent for a moment. “You’re not going to contact that, that _girl_ and tell her you’ve found me?”

“No need,” said Damian easily, “I report to her about fires.”

“You two talk all the time. It has to be about more than non-existing flames.”

Damian glanced sideways at her and nearly blushed. Their faces were very close together like this, something she seemed to have just now noticed as well. Her amethyst eyes were startled before they both looked away.

He didn’t comment on the matter. It took him some moments to pull his concentration together and steady his breathing. He felt very aware now of how her skin was laid of his, how her arm was around his neck. He noticed with a shock that he could smell her. It was like a myriad scent of blackcurrant and apricot. She smelled like a blossoming flower field.

“Not too much farther,” muttered Damian, knowing red was in his cheeks. He didn’t dare glance at her.

He could have taken her to a safety box. They held all the supplies he would have at the watchtower. But he needed more time. So they crossed into the plains outside of the tower.

“Oh good,” he said, “the bear’s not around.”

“You already know you need not fear it,” the girl said under her breath.

“Oh, I know,” said Damian, “If it came for us, I could just drop you and make a run for it.”

She scoffed. A noise like amusement trying to quickly hide behind false irritation. The stairs weren’t nearly as difficult as he would’ve thought. The girl had a lot of strength in her and they made it up nearly as fast as if Damian had walked them himself.

Her grip tightened enough to almost be painful as he tried to lay her across his bed.

“What in the hell do you think you are doing?” she snarled.

“Perhaps you missed the part in med-school where you should elevate a twisted ankle?” said Damian.

“If you try anything, I swear I will disembowel you.”

“I believe you,” muttered Damian, “but I won’t be joining you.” She still remained difficult to situate. “Oh, will you _just-“_

“Fine!” she snapped. She allowed herself to be seated on Damian’s bed and watched warily as he made his way across the room to sit on the chair at his desk. They stared at each other, with her glaring and he in curiosity. His eyes landed on her red stone.

“It took my forever to get everything reorganized after you looked for that,” he said, not really sure where he was going with it.

“My heart _bleeds_ for you,” said the girl.

Damian almost smiled. But another thought struck his mind. “The poacher, or hunter, whoever it was with the rifle, did you see him?”

The girl kept an even face. “No,” she said, “he was long gone by the time I arrived.”

Damian studied her. He _felt_ like she was telling the truth, however unlikely it sounded.

“I thought you were going to help me with my ankle, not interrogate me?” asked the girl, aggravated.

“Let’s speak plainly,” Damian leaned forward, “I know you can heal yourself. You did it to that bear my first night here. Ana was shot and you healed her.”

The girl was staring at Damian like he was an alien. “Ana?”

“The goose,” said Damian, unflustered, “down by the lake. I named her. I feed her all the time.”

It looked to Damian like she almost smiled. Then her face went deadly serious. “If you were fond of her, why did you leave immediately?”

“I went to get supplies from the safety-box,” Damian argued. “But when I came back, there wasn’t a need. You’d already done… whatever it is you actually do.”

“So that’s why you brought me back up here?” she asked. “To study me like a freak?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the eighth wonder of the world,” said Damian, “I’d never be able to figure you out. I’m just… curious.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Can you blame me?”

They studied each other for a long beat. Then, slowly, the girl moved her hands to her ankle and Damian watched in utter amazement as a bright purple light emitted from her fingertips and wrapped her foot. In a quick moment it was done, and she drew her hands back, more watching Damian than anything. She shifted her legs off the bed. The ankle she twisted was moving and rolling every bit as well as her other. She looked completely unbothered by it.

Damian’s eyes went steadily from her ankle to her hands to her eyes, which were guarded. Damian knew he wasn’t drawing out an explanation about that particularly from them tonight.

“How long have you been out here?” he wondered.

“That’s not any of your business.”

“It is, actually,” replied Damian, “I’m the one watching out for the forest.”

Her eyes narrow. It was easy to see that statement offended her.

“But not the only on, I’m sure,” Damian carried on easily. She relaxed infinitesimally. At that moment, the radio went off.

_“Goliath, are you there?! Damnit, Damian, pick up your damn radio! I can’t believe you didn’t take it with you!”_

Damian’s eyes glanced hard at the girl on his bed. “Don’t make a sound.” She didn’t respond in any way, but as she was hardly speaking at all, he figured it was safe to answer Emiko.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Goliath in.”

There was a heavy, dramatic sigh. _“You’re going to make me rip my freaking hair out. What happened out there? Did you see anyone?”_

“It was one drunk bastard,” Damian responded, watching the girl watch him, “I found his camp littered with beer cans. He tried shooting at the wildlife out by the lake, but missed. When I yelled for him, he dropped his rifle and ran into the woods. I chased, but lost him.”

_“Well we weren’t asking you to go manhunter on him! Did you apprehend the rifle?”_

Damian grimaced. “Forgot all about it,” he admitted.

“ _Don’t worry about it. I’ll radio in to the rangers. We’ll get it taken care of.”_ There was a moment of pause before she added, _“You did way more than any of the lookouts would’ve done.”_

“It wasn’t much…” Damian trailed off, wondering why the girl on his bed decided now to look away.

There was a longer pause. And then-

_“It still must’ve been quite the ordeal. And knowing there’s a drunk retard out there with a gun. If you… if you need some company tonight, I wouldn’t mind making the hike up to see you.”_

Damian’s face reddened. The strange girl’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s okay, Emiko,” he quickly responded, “I think perhaps I should just try to rest.”

_“Are you sure?”_ she pressed. _“We could- I could help you… relax.”_

“I appreciate the kind offer,” he said, and the odd forest girl gave a light _tsk,_ “but I have a feeling I’ll come crashing down soon.”

_“If you’re sure you don’t want any_ company _tonight, then fine. Maybe some other time. I’ll report this in with the details you gave me. Oversight out.”_

Damian sat the radio down, feeling incredibly awkward. He knew he was grimacing when he glanced again at the girl, who was looking at him with an expression that did not betray any emotions of judgement.

“Your friend is nice,” she commented. “That’s a long way to walk to give you a shoulder to lean on.”

It was Damian’s turn to look away, eyes narrowed. “Let us never speak of this random occurrence again.”

“You’re saying that she’s never offered before,” said the girl, and now she sounded disbelieving, “she watches the hill between you two with binoculars sometimes, hoping you’re making your way towards her.”

That did catch Damian off-guard, for he has never assumed anything of the sort, but it didn’t truly surprise him with all her attempted teases.

“She’s a peoples person,” said Damian, “I’m sure she gets lonely. I’m not particularly gregarious myself. It’s easy for me to call isolation bliss.”

She stared at him a moment longer before letting her eyes drop. “That makes two of us, I guess.”

Damian eyed her. “So how long have you been _alone_ out here?”

She made an irritable face his way, a snap telling him off obviously at the edge of her lips. But it was like she caught herself. She swallowed and said, “Awhile.”

Progress, thought Damian. Finally. He was just about to carry on when the girl reached her hands up and removed her hood.

Be still, my beating heart.

She was different than any girl he’d ever seen. Her pale skin was an almost poetic contrast to her dark hair that framed her face to just above shoulder length, which was tinged a dark violet. But still, the most magnificent aspect of her was the one he’d seen the entire time- her eyes. Unearthly amethysts.

“My name is Raven,” she said, looking shy.

“Raven,” mused Damian, taking a second, “what are you doing out here by yourself?”

She gave him a glance that told him he was pushing his luck. He tried a different question.

“How can you do what you do?”

She looked to at least consider that one, as if she _wanted_ to answer him. But instead shook her head wordlessly.

Damian wanted to sigh. He thought perhaps they were done being this evasive now that she’d healed in front of him knowingly. Another thought struck him, one that felt the most awkward to bring up still.

“Why did you steal some of my letters from home?” he asked wearily.

Now she looked like a deer caught in headlights all over again, just like when they first laid eyes on each other earlier. “Th-that’s, I mean, I wasn’t-“

“You were just curious?” Damian guessed, hoping to make this easier for her.

Raven still looked beyond embarrassed, but she nodded.

“I suppose I can get that,” he said. A sad thought struck him. “You’re out here all alone… you don’t get letters from home, do you?”

Raven looked out the window, to the sky that was getting darker. “I _am_ home,” was all she said. Her face became closed off and Damian knew she was done talking about that subject.

He glanced about his room. She’d also taken books as well. “You like to read?” he asked. The question immediately caught her attention. She was glancing back his way, an eyebrow raised like she caught the scent of something interesting. “Well,” Damian continued, “my family sends me books all of the time. Here,” he picked one up and tried handing it to her, “I only need to read them once. You can come by and grab anything you want.”

She hesitated, but then eagerly accepted it, making a small face when she saw the title.

“I believe you and I have different tastes,” she muttered. “I saw this one when I- when I came here looking for my stone. It looks… odd.”

Damian gave her that one. “My brother Tim sent it to me. He loves science fiction and mysteries. I know it sounds silly, but ‘Among Us’ really is a well-written mystery novel with suspense. You’ll like it.”

Raven nodded and cradled it, now looking around his floor for other novels he had lying around. Damian had to smile to himself. He helped her pick a few out, not at all surprised when she had a hungry look for the grimdark, romance fantasy novel Jason had sent a week ago.

“I don’t suppose you need a flashlight to read in the dark,” said Damian, looking out at the setting sun. Raven rolled her eyes.

It appeared their time had come to an end. He offered to help her carry the books, but she politely declined. He opened his door for her and she stepped out, examining the stairs rather than stepping down them, as if something was on her mind.

“Why did you come out here?” she asked suddenly. Her eyes burned with intensity.

Damian looked out over the forest. “I’ve been living in the largest concrete jungle on the planet. But… I grew up in a place like this. I missed it.”

Raven nodded. “But why didn’t you go there instead? Why come here?”

He smiled sadly. “It’s a story.”

She waited. She wanted him to elaborate. This caused Damian to forge an opportunity.

“If you come back,” he hinted, “maybe I’ll tell you all about it.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. She whisked away without another word. Damian watched her go half of the stairs before returning back inside. He went to stand by his desk, intent on at least watching her until she disappeared into the forest, but when he had, she had vanished from sight completely…


	6. Home

** DAY 43 **

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****

Damian twirled the soup in his bowl mindlessly. Raven had enveloped his mind. As the weather nipped colder this day due to a harsher wind, he hoped she was alright.

** DAY 45 **

****

****

****

“Everything should be okay,” he spoke back into his handheld radio.

_“But are_ you _okay?”_ Emiko asked. _“You’ve been like a drone these last few days. Ever since I… offered to help you relax.”_

He hadn’t thought of that at all actually. “It’s not that Emiko. I’m just distracted.”

She let a pause sit there. _“The offer is still on the table? It sounds like you need something to help liven you up. A little… companionship to help you feel more human.”_

Huh. Human. Was Raven human? He wasn’t positive really.

“Companionship sounds nice,” he mutter without thinking. Raven in his room again was on his mind. But he quickly caught his dire mistake and recovered. “But not right now,” he said quickly. “Forgive me. I’m feeling lethargic lately. Perhaps the cold weather took its toll on me more than I thought…”

** DAY 47 **

****

****

****

Damian was out by the lake again, occupying the tree log. Ana the goose was drifting along peacefully, a couple of little ducklings now behind her. Damian wondered where the hell they came from. Who was the other goose?

He heard the loud thudded footsteps and didn’t have to turn to know what was approaching. The giant bear planted itself on his right. When he looked over, it turned its snout at the same time, and they made eye contact.

“Where’s your friend at?” Damian muttered. The bear didn’t answer him. They instead both watched Ana the goose lead her little ducklings across the lake’s surface.

** DAY 48 **

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****

****

It was midday and cool chill in the air had Damian grabbing for his thick, woolen sweater as he left to grab the supplies, letters, and, hopefully, books.

Maybe that would draw her back, Damian thought to himself. Perhaps she was watching even as he made his way up the hill, waiting to see if he would come back down accompanied by many adventures laden in his arms.

He was in luck. On top of the food he requested, there were a few letters and five novels. He had trouble carrying them all, swearing his arms were getting stronger, but he managed his way back down to the watchtower.

Winds began howling against his windows within the hour. He had just finished sorting his groceries, now going through the titles of the novels, feeling a sort of relief when he found Jason sent another horror book about a damsel fleeing from a terrifying monster.

“ _Get everything you need?”_

Damian’s eyes flickered to the walkie-talkie and grabbed it. “Everything I asked for and more. Thanks Emiko.”

_“Anytime.”_

It sounded final and Damian hoped that was the end to it, but the walkie-talkie rung again.

_“I got another bottle of wine,”_ she said timidly, “ _It’s not the Screaming Eagle you missed out on, but it’s still a tasty Cabernet. I was thinking about opening it up here soon, letting it breath for a while, then walking down by the lake… Sure would like some company.”_

Damian swallowed. “Alcohol and I don’t mix,” he said.

_“That’s okay. You can watch how loose I get when alcohol mixes with_ me. _”_

Because you seem so wound up, Damian thought. “I-“ he stopped short as there was a sharp knock at the door.

_“What was that?”_

“Nothing,” Damian said quickly, daring not to believe it. He opened the door fractionally. Raven’s bright curious eyes were on the other side.

“I should probably use the rest of the day to respond to my family’s letters as fast as possible,” said Damian, elated and now full of energy, “there’s an urgency going on back at home. Some other time perhaps.”

_“Pfft. Perhaps. Oversight out.”_

Damian gladly cut the communication and swung the door open wide. They just stared at each other. Her hood was up and her body was nearly entirely hidden underneath her purple cloak.

“Hi,” she said.

“I was just starting to wonder when I’d see you again,” said Damian. He wondered if he fooled her.

“I had to keep an eye on the forest,” said Raven. “And… I was reading. It really makes the time go by.”

Damian studied her before nodding. He stood to the side, offering for her to come in. “It does,” he said.

Raven’s mouth hardly morphed at all. There was just a hint of the corners lifting, but it was enough to move Damian all the same.

Be still, my beating heart.

She walked in and took a lounging seat across his bed, looking around his room.

“Any more injuries to stray, helpless bears?” inquired Damian as he shut the door.

Now Raven frowned at him. “No. But there was a leopard near the mountain in need of aid. And a couple more. But they’re all fine now.”

At least she’s being more open about all of this, thought Damian. He watched as her eyes landed on the new stack of books and looked surprised.

“How often do you get this stuff in?” she asked.

“Once a week,” he told her, sitting across the room at his desk. Her eyes flickered at the space in between them. “Everyone in my family are big readers, almost all with different tastes. Alfred’s big into James Bond and books you keep around the house like ‘interior decorating’ and ‘fine foods and wine’. Tim is the scy-fy guy and Jason is in to dark fantasies.”

“And your parents?”

“My father reads a lot of classics, then political and business pieces,” said Damian. He scratched the back of his head. “He’s actually been asked to run for president recently.”

Raven looked confused. “President?”

Damian stared at her, dumbfounded. She must’ve never left this forest, but he decided not to ask about that. “It’s the person who’s in charge of most of the country back home,” he informed her, “but some of them can be Neanderthals who do crooked deals with other countries for money. That’s one of the reasons they want father to run. He’s as vastly wealthy as he is intelligent.”

Raven nodded, but made no other comment. “And your mother?”

Damian hesitated. “My _step-_ mother is into romance thrillers. She loves adrenaline a little too much.”

Nodding silently, it was clear she wanted him to continue on to the other parent not named, but when he didn’t, she let it drop. After a moment, she bit her lip and looked at him.

“Among Us _was_ a rather good novel,” she grudgingly admitted.

Damian smirked and folded his arms smugly. “I knew you’d like it.”

“The person who it was,” she looked lost for words, “they were _so good_ at lying!”

“Scoundrels,” said Damian. Raven laughed once. Her eyes flickered to the space between them again.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got those in over there just today. You’re welcome to whatever you like before… before you leave again.”

Raven glanced his way, but he refused to make eye contact. She would certainly see the level of effect she had on him.

“I was wondering if perhaps, I could… hang out here for a while today,” she muttered. Damian tried not to answer too quickly or enthusiastically.

“Of course you can,” he said, failing miserably. But the smile returned to Raven’s face and it was worth it. “Though I probably should answer my family’s letters back.”

Her eyebrows knitted. “ _Is_ something wrong?”

Damian shook his head. “No, not at all. But Emiko is the one who everything passes back through. She’ll know I was lying if I don’t send anything back soon.”

Raven’s eyes strayed to the books. “It’s not as though she _deserves_ any truth from you,” she said nonchalantly.

Damian tried to decipher that. “Perhaps not. But all the same. It won’t take me long. Maybe you could start on one of the books?”

Raven considered. “Okay.” She dove for the pile and in a matter of moments she was deciding between two novels, one in each hand. The horror one from Jason or the romance set in 1800s New York from Selina. She glanced over as Damian grabbed the letter envelopes. “Which one of your family members wrote you?” she asked.

Damian shuffled through them like cards. “My father, Bruce,” he said, “Tim, surprisingly, and-“ he stopped in surprise of the final one.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” said Damian slowly, “the last one is from Stephanie.”

That caught Raven’s attention. “Stephanie? Is… that your sister?”

Damian suddenly felt like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “No, she’s a friend. Tim’s girlfriend,” he said firmly, glancing quickly at her.

It didn’t appear she comprehended that. “You… got a letter from your brother’s girlfriend?” she asked. There wasn’t a hint of any interest in her voice, but her eyes were staring unblinkingly at him.

“We’ve been friends for years,” said Damian. He turned in his chair to the desk so she wouldn’t see his face, though he could still feel her eyes on his back. It was that same feeling he had every time he thought he was being watched.

Stephanie’s letter was full of well wishes. She hoped he was reveling in his escape and that it was the other world he needed out there. She wanted him to know that he was the conversation every other day at Wayne Manor and that… that she missed him. As he read that particular line, he felt that chill of Raven’s eyes on him again.

He wrote her a quick letter back, half as long as the one he received from her. Tim’s letter was interesting. Senators were now calling their father, asking him to take office. That he was everything the country needed and then some.

His father’s letter mentioned nothing of the sort. But he did say Jason got off scott-free with the whole smashing-his-helmet-into-that-bastard’s-head incident. Their lawyers cleaned it up. The reporter, though outside of the private airport, was still on Wayne grounds, where he had no right to be. Damian was sure that if Jason had realized this, the outcome would’ve been much worse.

After an hour or so, Damian set the pen down and flexed his hand. After sealing the letters back in envelopes, he turned and found Raven laying across his bed on her stomach, intently reading the horror novel Jason sent.

“I thought that perhaps you got enough spooks out in the forest at night,” said Damian, pulling her out of her realm.

“There’s nothing in that forest that could harm me,” she said confidently. She marked her place and closed the book. “I’m taking this with me, by the way,” she said, waving it, “you can have it back once I’m finished.”

Damian snorted. He was going to reply, but as she moved to sit up, her shapely legs came out over the side of his bed. His eyes ran up them to the tight wear she had on.

“Why do you wear a corset out to go hiking in the forest?” he blurted out without thinking, his face quickly going red.

Raven looked both a little offended and self-conscious. “It’s a _leotard,_ ” she told him.

“Right,” said Damian dryly, “how could I have been mistaken?”

She let her hood fall down and Damian could see her full exasperation. He couldn’t stop the upwards tick at his mouth though. Everything about her… felt like home.


	7. The Legend of Azarath

** DAY 51 **

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****

“Honestly, it’s just surprising is all.”

Raven looked up at Damian. She was sitting at the edge of the lake with a very homemade fishing pole, waiting for a bite.

“You thought I was vegetarian?” she asked.

“Well, yeah,” said Damian, watching where her line was in the water, “you just seem like the gathering-berries, hunting-for-honey type.”

“Each of those tasks were taken care of yesterday,” replied Raven, “but the fish are delicious. You’ve not tried them?”

“I actually am vegetarian,” Damian crossed his arms, “I thought I told you that.”

“You did,” said Raven, “but you never said you’ve never _tried_ meat before.”

“There is no desire in me to do so,” said Damian, trying to resist scowling.

“Your loss,” shrugged Raven. She straightened up as the end of her line wiggled. “Oh! Here we go!” Damian watched as she fought with an unseen creature from the depths, fighting for it’s poor life, regretting everything. Raven eagerly pulled and the bass-like fish broke the water’s surface.

“Finally,” she smiled. Her eyes strayed in horror as Ana the goose swam quickly to the end of her line, eyes trained hard on the fish at Raven’s mercy.

“No,” Raven yelled at her, “don’t you do it! Don’t you- ugh!” She wailed as Ana collapsed on her prize, ripping her meal away.

“Damn goose,” muttered Raven sadly, “I saved your life.”

Damian smiled down at her. “Have some berries and honey instead.”

“They’d taste better slathered over a cooked fish.” Raven stood up and looked at Damian. “What are you having today?”

~

“Maybe you could wash them down with this?” Damian suggested. He pulled out a sparkling water from his mini fridge and offered it to Raven, who wasn’t too crazy about Damian’s simple diet of carrots and greens.

She eyed the bottle suspiciously.

“That’s not a soda pop, is it?” she asked.

“No, it-“ Damian paused, frowning, “how do you know what a soda pop is?”

Raven nearly flinched, her eyes going to Damian’s face then quickly away.

“I, uh…” she started, not looking anywhere near Damian, “I was caught before, while helping an animal. By the person who was at your friend’s tower over the hill before her.”

Damian stilled. He hadn’t imagined she’d ever ran into anyone else other than unsuspecting poachers perhaps.

“What transpired?” asked Damian. He was watching Raven as intensely as she was determinedly looking away.

“He… he was kind and good-natured, like you. He didn’t force me to do anything I would have regretted.”

“And he gave you soda pop,” added Damian. “You became friends.”

Raven’s eyes slid sideways back to him. “In a sense.”

Damian suddenly felt hollow, colder than the outside. “In a sense?” he asked, surprised by how steady his voice sounded.

“I just mean friends stay in contact,” said Raven, “right? I have not heard from him since he left the post. There’s… no way to reach me of course.”

Damian nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he muttered, looking down at his place. The situation was now reverse; Raven was watching him intensely and Damian was determinedly avoiding eye contact.

“What was his name?” he asked politely, not really caring.

“Garfield,” she answered right away. “He came out here because he loved animals, but kept getting too close to them at night. That’s how he spotted me.”

“He came out here because he loved animals,” repeated Damian, sounding bored even to himself, “sounds like a kind of guy you’d take to.”

He knew Raven’s chin was jutted out as she stared at him, food completely forgotten. “It wasn’t- it wasn’t anything like that. He stayed here for twelve months or so. We got along. But it would never have been-“ she suddenly looked awkward, and Damian knew now that the subject must have been broached between them before the previous fire watcher had left.

“It wouldn’t have been anything like that,” finished Raven lamely, “we were just too different. Yin-and-Yang. Like siblings who butted heads a lot. He didn’t get a lot about me, nor I, him.”

Damian didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t know how he felt. Like he wanted to swallow down a nasty taste in his mouth. He wanted to change the subject, but felt too bitter to think of anything else.

“That’s not fair,” said Raven suddenly, leaning forward. Her eyes were somewhat pleading. “I can feel what you’re feeling. Stop. Nothing came of it.”

“Nothing came of it?” Damian repeated her again. “You two- you two kissed?”

Raven jolted back, as if Damian had seen something he shouldn’t have. Though her face gave away the answer, he waited for her to speak.

“It was… emotional when he was leaving. I’d never had a friend before. It was a confusing goodbye kiss, really. That’s all.” Raven’s eyes were searching Damian’s, hard.

Well Damian felt sick. He pushed his food away and tried very hard not to look sour. He and Raven had obviously talked about nothing of the sort, were probably not anywhere near the level of friends she and this Garfield had been, her first friend. And on top of that, it was over a year or so before Damian had ever come here.

He glanced at Raven again, who was watching him apprehensively.

“What do you mean you can feel what I’m feeling?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

She stared at him, probably dumfounded in the direction this was now going. “I’m an empath,” she told him, “on top of being able to heal wounds and swallow other’s pain, I feel all the motions of those around me, people and animals alike.”

Damian had to bear that in mind from now on. “Neat,” he mumbled, not wanting to be rude. He picked his fork back up and picked at his food.

Raven was quiet. “Do you want me to go?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Damian said without hesitation. She must’ve been able to tell it was the truth, for she picked her own fork back up and speared some carrots.

“We’re having fish tomorrow,” she mumbled, and Damian couldn’t help but smile.

** DAY 55 **

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“Selina has been wonderful. I’m very, very happy to have her in my life.”

Raven looked on, studying him, wanting to know. “But your mother?” she pressed.

Damian sighed. “It’s not… actually that much of a story. My mother’s name is Talia Al Ghul. Her father was Asia’s biggest crime lord. Biggest one in the world, really, but he never took any interest out of Asia.”

“How did a lady like that meet the future president of your nation?” Raven asked, her voice now shades softer.

“He was the one leading the raids against the Al Ghuls,” said Damian, smiling without humor. “My father was travelling in Asia, getting busy with the underground and black markets to work his way up to meeting the famous Ra’s Al Ghul. He was a spy in works with the U.S and several Asian governments. A rich boy who could handle his own and wanted to get his hands dirty. So one day, he does enough. He funds one of Ra’s Al Ghul’s ships full of illegal spices and weapons, so the two meet. And his daughter, my mother, was there. The part that I _don’t_ need the details on is how well they hit it off. All I know is that they had drinks and a dinner discussing some business at a fancy restaurant overlooking Tokyo and _I_ happened. While my mother was pregnant with me, it became clear to her and my grandfather that my father was working against them. A raid happened when Bruce Wayne finally dug out the secret location of Nanda Parbat. I’m told quiet a few people died that day, by my mother and her father escaped. Ra’s Al Ghul was forced to move from operation to operation, losing more and more power every time he was forced to flee. Eventually… they left me behind.”

Raven gaped. “How old were you?”

“Ten,” said Damian. “My mother and I mainly stayed with high security detail in Tibet at a different secret location, cracked into the side of the mountain. I just woke up one day and everyone was gone. No words, no note, no anything. Nothing but a signal revealing my whereabouts to the authorities.”

“Those people didn’t punish you?”

Damian shook his head. “No. Kept me locked up for a few days, interrogating me. Even withholding food and water for a while. But eventually they gave up, gave me a DNA test, and found out who was my father. Bruce fucking Wayne.”

“And does the world know about this?”

“For the most part,” Damian answered. “They know of his deeds to bring one of the biggest crime lords in history down. They know my mother is probably that crime lord’s daughter. But who cares? I’ve never given much thought to what people think.”

Raven simply nodded slowly. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” she said.

Damian glanced at her, wondering if now would be the time to ask her. “I’m curious about your lineage as well, obviously,” he started out, “but if you’re not ready to tell, or don’t want to, you don’t have to…”

Rave dropped her eyes to the floor. When she picked them up to him again, they were as apprehensive as when she explained to him about Garfield.

“I was born here in the forests of Azarath,” she said. “My father is Trigon the Terrible.”

Damian knew the shock he felt covered his face. He felt like he misheard her. “What? I’m sorry? Trigon was your dad?”

Raven’s eyes squeezed tighter. “Trigon the Terrible _is_ my father.”

Damian stared at her, uncomprehending. “Trigon… is a legend. A myth, like an evil Hercules or Achilles. He didn’t exist.”

Raven’s eyes fell to the ground again sadly. “How I wish that were true. But Trigon _does_ exist.” She stood up and offered Damian her hand. “Come. Please. I want to show you.”

Damian hesitated, but allowed her to help him up. Her hand was fractionally colder than what it should have been. When they stood, she looked at him.

“You know I have gifts…”

“Whatever you’re going to do, let’s go,” encouraged Damian.

Raven watched him for a moment longer before lifting her hand and, out of thin air, a sort of magical portal emerged of bright light. Damian jumped back.

_“HOLY HELL!”_

“Hell is not holy,” Raven corrected him. “Come. This will take us where we need to be.”

Looking at her, Damian swallowed. “Can’t we just hike?”

Raven’s head dropped in disbelief. “I’m wearing heels. I don’t go hiking.”

Staring again at the portal in astonishment, Damian heavily sighed. He shut his eyes tight and walked forward, light enveloping him. And he continued walking until a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Will you stop?” You’re going to hit a tree.”

Damian opened his eyes again. He was standing in the forest, but there were more than just trees and birds around him. He seemed to be standing in the middle of a decrepit, lost city. There were blocks of white marble at his feet, overgrown with weeds and tree roots. He stared open-mouthed at a large white building, a giant hole in the roof and broken windows.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Daman said in a hushed voice, “this can’t be-“

“The lost temple of Azarath,” said Raven sadly. She was standing right next to him, staring at it. She looked down between them and grabbed his hand. “Come.”

She lead them inside. Grass was erupting from the cracks in the floor. The walls were cracked and shattered. It looked as if it had been abandoned and left to the mercy of the storms and wilds for a decade or two.

“What happened?” Damian wondered, glancing in every direction. “If the legends are true…”

“They are,” said Raven. “Well, I’m assuming you speak of the same ones Gar did. I told him the stories, but I never brought him here. He told me the Lost Temple of Azarath was a famous myth about these forests.”

Damian simply nodded, wishing for her to start. He was watching her watch him. She was watching him watch her.

Raven began the tale. “Over a thousand years ago, in a time when magic was old and dying, one of the last living sorceresses fled the tyranny of men in central Europe. Men who wanted to bind her and rape her and make her perform spells to do their bidding. Instead of retaliating with anger and force, she kept peace by fleeing several thousand miles north.

“It was there the great Lady Azar came about the grandest woods she’d ever seen, teeming with magic of its own. Without possessions and without family, she forged her way in, praying for refuge. And what she prayed for, the forest provided. She felt the animals guide her to where she needed to be. They lead her to food and water, for she was no hunter. They lead her to this exact place, an opening where a home could be built. And so, Lady Azar built.”

Raven looked graver now more than ever. “But you see, life is a circle. All energy and efforts given, must be returned. As the forest offered sanctuary to her, a powerful sorceress, it needed protection of its own.

“Trigon the Terrible. He was an evil spirit that the forest whispered of in fear each night. An unnatural presence. It hunted, feeding off the life force of the creatures of the forest, killing for sport. Lady Azar did what she could, but her magic could never top Trigon’s. She healed as often as she could, popping in and out of where she was needed, hoping to stave off Trigon before he could fully take an animal’s life.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing,” whispered Damian. “The bear that night.”

Raven nodded, meeting his eyes. “You have no idea how lucky you were that night, Damian. I could feel my father’s presence hunting a newcomer. I’ve never felt him so restless and I still don’t know why. The bear just _happened_ to be in the way that night and it thwarted him.”

A chill went down Damian’s back. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. She’d never told him she’d saved _his_ life before.

She watched him anxiously again, but he just waited for her to continue.

“Over time, as Lady Azar did her noble work well, she prayed to the forest to help others in need. Those with good hearts, or hearts in need of salvation, looking for sanctuary as well to be lead to her. The forest complied. Every now and then someone would flee a tragedy and would naturally find their way into the forest. They would be under Lady Azar’s protection.

“Time passed. Lady Azar’s family grew. Some found the peace they needed and left, spreading word of Lady Azar’s great deeds and the temple, which is how the country got its name. And then eventually, my mother came.”

She glanced around the destroyed temple before she spoke again. “It was just under eighteen years ago. My mother ran away from home with the first people who whispered in her ear that she shouldn’t trust systems set up by parents or governments. I understand she did stupid things. And when she didn’t want to do them anymore, the people who ‘saved’ her beat her and tried raping her as well, angry that she was done complying. She ran away from their van, and, as you probably guessed, into this forest.”

“Was the man somehow… Trigon?” asked Damian. He felt confused. “The legends say he was a demonic man that slaughtered countless in this country. But you’re saying he is a spirit.”

Raven nodded. “He’s both because he is a demon. He can enter the spiritual and reality plains. Often, when the world of men dared to come near his forests to build, he’d often take many of them during the night, bringing them into the forest and sucking their life force dry. The same happens with poachers who try to claim the lives of what Trigon believes belongs to him.” She looked wary again, and sadder than before. “It’s what happened to that man that day. The fool who shot Ana. As I arrived, I saw my father already making away with his body. I was surprised you did not hear the screams.”

Another sever chill ran over Damian’s body. “I must’ve been too far away to hear the carry over the wind.” He thought of how this must’ve been what happened to the company that Wayne Enterprises sent. Another thought struck him.

“How on earth were the watchtowers built?”

Raven almost smiled. “Believe it or not, they were built with good, selfless intentions. Those worried about the safety of the forest went untouched. They didn’t build with bricks or machinery. They didn’t clear out trees. Those were set up with a labor of love in open places like plains or your meadow.”

Damian hmphed. His thoughts grew sadder as he reminded Raven of the story. “Your mother..?”

Raven looked sadder as well. “She ran into the forest. And while it guided her to an extent, Trigon had finally come up with a plan to stop Lady Azar from deterring him.”

“Me,” Raven said, answering Damian’s questioning look. “A half demon, half human child. Someone who would be accepted into Azarath without question. The extra power boost he needed. So he took the demonic, humanoid form of his and hunted and raped my mother. Lady Azar, feeling the disturbance, came, but far too late. She recovered my mother’s broken body on the forest floor and nine months later, just over seventeen years ago now, I was born.”

Raven stared at the temple’s floor in utter sadness. “Letting me live was the greatest mistake they ever made.”

Damian was just about to comment against that, but her look quelled him. “I was thirteen,” she said, “when I tried summoning more power. More than I naturally have. I wanted to _end_ him. Let the forest be free of the Trigon curse. He… he took advantage of that. The power overwhelmed my senses. I was lost in it. And he swooped in and took everything he needed to. It was only moments… but when I regained my senses, everyone in Azarath… was dead.”

Damian looked on, horrified for her. Raven’s story was far worse than he ever expected. She returned her gaze to him sadly.

“There is still great magic within this forest,” she said, “It could still protect itself. But from outsiders, from men. Not from the demon Trigon.”

“And so,” Damian carried on for her, “while he is still alive, you have a job to do. In Lady Azar’s stead.”

Raven watched the ground again. “I could leave,” she said quietly, “but what kind of a coward would that make me. My poor mother. Poor Azarath. They didn’t deserve the kind of Hell I am.”

Damian took a moment to compose himself. There wasn’t anything he could think of to say. Mere words felt meaningless. He glanced down at her hand, hanging loosely at her side, no energy in her body at all, and grabbed it. She looked down in surprise, but came up with a smile. He had one for her, too.


	8. Bliss... And Jealousy

** DAY 58 **

The storm was just arriving that night. Damian watched as the rainfall began over the trees and around his watchtower. Raven wasn’t anywhere in sight, so as he sat down at his desk chair he felt the anticipation he had flood away.

Over a soup made with freshly-picked herbs from the forest the day prior, Raven said she wanted to bring him something to read for a change. He’d been expecting her all day, his excitement slowly draining every hour or so she still had not arrived.

Which is why it was a great surprise when a sharp knock came at his door right when the rain became its heaviest.

Damian answered it quickly, pulling the door fully open, some rainwater splashing inside. Raven, cradling something underneath her cloak with her hood up, rushed inside.

“Hi,” she said, lowering her hood.

“Did you run here through the rain?” Damian asked, snapping the door shut. The rain was positively bulleting down now, slashing against the windows.

She cocked an eyebrow his way. Her hair was barely wet, but some of it clung to the side of her face.

“I teleported,” she answered. “I was going to come right inside, but I thought that’d be rude.”

“I would never mind,” said Damian. “You’re always welcome to pop in.”

Raven looked appreciative of that. Her eyes were shinning. From underneath her cloak, she drew an old looking, large book bound in dark brown leather with strange symbols on the front.

“This is the history of Azarath,” she spoke, “everything is in here. The eponymous heroine Lady Azar herself wrote most of the pages. Some done by others. My- my mother wrote some herself. I’ve added the last few pages… since no one else is around.” Her eyes came back to Damian, a mixture of anxious and worry. “It has never been spoken of to anyone outside of Azarath before.”

Damian stepped closer to her. Her eyes were vibrant this close. He took the rcanum novel from underneath, being gentle and careful not to drop it. Their fingers brushed together.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” said Damian. Raven looked about to say something, but swallowed it and nodded instead. He handled it lightly, setting it down, the world’s most valuable and best-kept-secret novel. When he turned again, Raven was still watching him. They hadn’t been this close since the first night they met, when she had her arm around him, helping her walk.

Damian didn’t even hesitate. Only a couple of short weeks knowing each other, it somehow felt long over-due. Watching her eyes for permission, he tenderly placed a hand on her neck, his fingers on her delicate jaw-line, and leaned in towards her. Her lips parted slightly before they met him and she took him with an inhale, deepening that first kiss. She followed his motions for the next one and the one after that. Soon Damian’s arms were around her, pulling her as close as she could be, and hers were around his neck. He pulled away from her wet lips momentarily, causing her eyes to flutter.

“I don’t mean to-“ he started.

“ _Please more,”_ Raven said with a breath. She pulled him back in. He smiled against her lips as he held her face. She was so demure most of the time that he was surprised and pleased by her neediness now. He wasn’t aware of who was pulling who onto the bed. They landed with Damian’s back on the mattress.

Raven pulled away, straddling his waist, with a look in her eyes as if she was trying to make sure what was going on was happening. As Damian ran his hands up her thighs, she pulled her cloak over hear head and threw it onto the floor. She fiddled with a zipper on her back. It was music to Damian’s ears as he heard it run down.

“This is okay, right?” asked Raven, looking as if she needed real confirmation.

“It’s perfect,” he said. Raven made eye contact with him as her corset-leotard came off. His trailed down her perfect body. Sitting up and wrapping an arm around her, Damian met Raven’s lips again, their bare skin pressing together.

It was bliss.

** DAY 61 **

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_“Damian, I haven’t heard from you in two days. Answer or I’m calling the Rangers to investigate the area NOW!”_

He barely heard it over Raven’s gasps in his ear. They were seated at the edge of his bed, and she was clinging to him tightly, her nails undoubtedly making more claw marks on his bare back. 

“Damian,” Raven breathed as she slowed down her movements, “focus.”

He swallowed. “I really need to respond this time.”

_“Damian,”_ she growled in some irritation, “we’re in the middle of something.”

“Again and again and again,” he gave a weak smirk. It was getting late in the day and he was on the verge of collapse an hour ago. “Two seconds. I have to be responsible for a moment.”

Raven’s groan turned into a moan as he pulled out of her, kissing her quickly on the neck. Shivers ran through his body from the cold still air of his watchtower and he regretted leaving her warmth. It was so much worse on his member, also being wet. Trying to make this quick as possible, he snatched up the radio.

“Oversight, I’ve been exploring more in the past few days. Sorry for not taking my radio.”

_“You’ve been exploring? It’s almost freezing out there.”_

“My time is almost up here,” he said, trying not to think of how that statement was true, “I only have little over three weeks left. I’d like to see as much as I can. There’s a small pond hidden in a trove of trees west of me that I’m trying to get back to,” he said, hoping that the statement lingering there would help her get his point. His eyes went back to Raven, sprawled naked across his bed and watching him intently with impatience.

_“You haven’t decided if you’re coming back next summer or not?”_

“I might have found reason to return,” said Damian.

_“Oh! Okay… well, good to know. Oversight out then.”_

It was a weird dismissal, but Damian didn’t care to think on it. He let the radio fall rather than lay it back down and crossed the room swiftly, Raven matching his eagerness for more.

** DAY 62 **

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“Robin.”

Damian looked up. He and Raven were in his watchtower, fully dressed for the first time in days. She was perched on his bed, idly going through book titles as Damian was reading up on the history of Azarath.

“That would be your name here,” said Raven. “You were asking me the other day, remember?” She looked at him, eyes shinning again. There was a hint of a smile on her face.

But Damian’s own face fell. “What? Robin? Like that pathetic little bird the size of a small squirrel?” But he faltered as Raven flared. “Which has it’s own purpose in the ecosystem, I’m sure,” he recovered.

“Nice save,” grunted Raven, returning to the books.

Damian pondered that. “You said your mother’s name was Arella. Do you know what it was before she came to Azarath.”

Raven nodded. “Angela Roth.” Her eyes flickered to him. “I… I would have been Rachel.” She pulled into herself tautly. “But I like Raven.”

“So do I,” said Damian, grinning. Raven smiled. He thought of perhaps snapping the books shut and putting them away for the day, but Raven’s eyes pulled elsewhere in a confused state.

“Damian,” she said, staring to the outside with a frown, “there’s… there’s someone out there.”

Alert ran in Damian’s head. “Your father?”

“No,” said Raven firmly, “he scarcely feels human. No, there’s someone wandering around close by.”

Now Damian frowned as well. “Must be lost hikers again. I’ve only ever seen that one couple. No one comes out here this far. It’s days of journey to get back.”

He stood up, thinking of his responsibilities to aid, when the sound of his own name froze him still.

“Damian! Are you up there?”

He knew that voice very well, unfortunately. And this time it wasn’t coming from the walkie-talkie.

He and Raven both looked at one another, shocked, as they heard Emiko coming up the stairs, drawing close.

“Hide,” said Damian. Raven quickly went from frozen to affronted.

“I never hide,” she said, curling her lip, obviously deeply unimpressed with him.

“Raven, I’m not supposed to have anybody up here,” he tried explaining frantically, “this is _technically_ state property. Please, I’m not asking you to leave. Just go incognito somehow for a bit, I’ll get rid of her.”

Raven’s hands were balled in fists. He could tell the entire idea was offensive to her and when she looked around the room, Damian saw in her eyes there was an instant when she thought of just teleporting away.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she muttered. There was a dark look on her face as her eyes found Damian again. “And this _is_ going to cost you.” With that, she dropped on the floor and easily slid underneath his bed, pulling the blanket down to cover any trace of her.

Guilt resonated in Damian. His first girl- well, if he could call her a girlfriend- having to hide because of some other persistent woman at the door. He tried to not grind his teeth when he heard Emiko’s knock.

“Damian? Hello? Are you in there?”

Before reaching for the handle, Damian took a deep breath to calm himself, then opened it.

Emiko Queen was not at all like he was expecting, if he’d given her enough thought to really be expecting anything in particular. He’d seen Oliver Queen on tv before and she looked nothing like him. Her eyes were grey, matching colors with the fashionable, thick cashmere pullover she had on, tight leather pants, and hair as dark as his, stylishly cascading down to chin-level on the right side of her face. Pink tainted her cheeks and nose from the cold and she was only a couple of inches shorter than Damian, probably Raven’s exact height.

“Well, hi,” she said, “can I come in for a second? Get out of the cold?”

Trying not to twist his mouth in displeasure knowing it would be very rude to do so otherwise, he stepped to the side, allowing her in. Emiko’s eyes scanned him repeatedly before looking around.

“Wow,” she said, “you’re a bit of a minimalist, aren’t you?”

“My interior decorator stayed in Gotham,” replied Damian, wondering why on Earth she was there. Her eyes flashed to him before looking around more.

“You have even more books than I do,” she said. “That’s a lot of reading for someone _exploring_ every second of the day.”

Damian felt no guilt at this. He was trying very hard not to glace at his bed, something Emiko did a moment later.

“Not quite as comfortable as the bear skin rug I have back at my tower, but it will do,” she said almost to herself. Her eyes went half-lidded when they went back to Damian, who stilled. There was a thud from Damian’s bed.

“What was that?” asked Emiko.

“Probably that damn squirrel storing its nuts underneath my tower again,” Damian quickly comprised, “look, Emiko, I don’t think-“

“That’s the problem right there,” asserted Emiko, turning her gaze back on him, “you’ve done _way too much_ thinking. But alone time will do that to you. It’s time for you to simply _act_.”

It would have been astounding if he could answer truthfully that acting has been what he’s been doing for the last few days nonstop. But all he could manage was a quick “wait!” as Emiko grabbed the hem of her cashmere pullover and pulled it off completely with one fluid motion in an act to seduce Damian beyond words. She stared at him boldly as she threw it carelessly to the side, standing there in the middle of his room, utterly topless. No under shirt. No bra. Just Emiko in black leather pants, the red lace of her lingerie panties underneath barely visible, and purely exposed from the waist up.

Damian could not deny he caught a full second of an eyeful before he looked away. The yoga lessons had not been a lie, it seemed. She was perfectly in shape, a slender form with the defined lines on her stomach. He had tried very hard to not look at her breasts, but failed for a transient period.

“Emiko, please cover back up,” stammered Damian. Before Raven killed them both, he mentally added.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get lingerie from Paris sent out here?” she asked, her voice becoming sultry. She emphasized it by tugging on the waist band of the red lace at her hip, exposing it more. “It took over a month. Only _you_ are worth that. Now come show me what I’m worth to you.”

“Emiko,” said Damian, gulping. He swore he saw a flicker of purple energy from underneath his bed. He steadied himself and looked back her way, trying to glare, but more than likely failing as at that precise moment she unbuttoned her black leather pants, revealing more red.

“It didn’t seem my hints were being evocative enough for you,” Emiko said in that sultry voice, “so when I got yours yesterday, I knew it was only a matter of time. But I just couldn’t wait anymore.”

“What hint?!” Damian asked, bewildered.

“You found a reason to return? I’m guessing it’s not because of the wildlife.”

Damian barely managed to refrain from clapping his forehead. “You must not have caught on to my misanthropic tendencies. I receded out here from Gotham for _peace_ , Emiko. I found it. I’ve never meant to lead you on.”

Emiko finally dropped the half-lidded look and removed her hands from pulling down her pants. Damian could now see more than half of her underwear. She put her hands on her hips and looked at him crossly.

“I am getting fucking naked,” she snapped, “why are you not at all turned on right now?”

“There’s already someone,” said Damian, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “There’s been someone special in my life for a long while now. If I had a desire to do this with you, you would have heard of it. I’m not cravenly on such matters.”

Emiko’s upper lip curled. “There’s someone waiting for you? Back in Gotham?”

Damian nodded, feeling no guilt whatsoever. He didn’t care what Emiko thought and Raven knew the truth. He just wished she would at least put her top back on.

“Bullshit,” Emiko called out. “I’ve read up on you. You’ve never even so much been on a date. There are news articles saying you’re afraid of coming out as a gay.”

He rolled his eyes at that one. “Regardless of whoever I love, it isn’t you. Please. I don’t mean to send you on your way with a long hike again, but I would like it if you left. I could accompany you for safety of course,” he added politely, knowing she’d refuse.

But she stood there unmoving, an expression that told Damian it was probably never when she didn’t get something she wanted. Her face relaxed after a moment and her eyes became more observing than sultry.

“So?” she shrugged. “She’s there and we’re here, all alone. No one has to know. Just _fuck me_.”

Damian nearly gagged, his jaw dropping open and this time he was sure he saw purple sparks from the corner of his eye.

“I care about her _very deeply,_ ” he said, emphasizing each word, “and no, no one has to know about this level of inappropriateness by _my boss_ if you leave _now.”_

They stood there glaring daggers at each other for moments. Damian was wondering what she was planning in her head when she gave a haughty huff and tugged her pants back up, which had been steadily falling, and buttoned them.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” she said, bending over and grabbing her sweater. “We could have actually been having _fun_ this next month. _Anywhere, anyhow_ you wanted. But here you are being a tight-ass for someone who is probably being a slut back home.” She glowered his way and Damian just let her carry on with her obscenities, folding his hands neatly behind his back, happy she was leaving. She pulled her sweater on and looked over her shoulder as she reached for the door handle. “I’ve never been so _humiliated_ in all my life!” Her eyes narrowed. “You _will_ pay for this.”

“You speak as if your actions were something that I cared about,” said Damian calmly. With a look of pure rage, Emiko slung the door open and slammed it behind her, stomping down the stairs.

“Well that’s one problem taken care of this summer,” Damian muttered, his eyes sliding down to the blanket pushing itself out from underneath his bed. He watched as Raven came out, stood, and dusted herself off without looking his way. When she finally did, her face was almost impassive to the point Damian wasn’t really aware of what was going on in her head until she turned and made to leave the room.

“Wait!” Damian said, grasping her hand. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” growled Raven. She wasn’t looking at him again.

“Why?” tried Damian. “She left.”

“And she’s very lucky she’s not being chased.”

“It was nothing. There’s nothing to really be upset about,” said Damian. His eyebrows knit together. “You do know there isn’t actually somebody waiting for me back in Gotham, right?”

Raven turned to face him with a curl in her upper lip very similar to Emiko’s. “ _That’s_ supposed to make me feel better? Over what just happened?” They stood there, Raven with one hand on the door. The other that Damian grasped had now reverted to their fingers intertwined. She glanced down at them and up again, before looking away absently.

“I can’t believe they’ve let a bitch with a bear-skin rug watch over the forest,” she muttered. Her hand tightened with Damian’s and her other fell from the door handle.

“Money commands an unfavorable wave of power,” said Damian, “but regardless, the forest has you.”

And with that, at least he finally got her to smile.


	9. Trigon

** DAY 64 **

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“You’ve found another friend?”

Damian looked up, an uptick at the corner of his mouth, to Raven who was watching him bemusedly with her arms crossed. He glanced down at the tortoise again, slowly biting the kale he was offering it.

“I think we’ll call her Mage,” he said. “She’s so tiny though. Should we take her up to the watchtower?”

Raven leaned in, inspecting their new friend. “Maybe. She is just a baby.” She peered in the direction of the forest. “What do you think?”

Damian glimpsed over at the large bear trying to snooze against the closest tree and gave a laugh.

** DAY 68 **

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“That was so good,” said Raven, her mouth puckering as she sat down a novel from Dick. “It’s surprising how enjoyable a read about other people isolating can be. But at least Sir Jonathon Lambart returned home to Martha from the Arctic.”

“That was a good one,” Damian commented, his nose buried in Azarath’s lore. Raven glanced over, surprise on her face.

“You’ve read it?” she asked. “It just got here yesterday. When did you read it?”

“Wayne Manor has five libraries,” he said, “I guess Dick sent that one not knowing I’ve already read it.”

“Five libraries,” Raven said in awe. Damian smirked at her.

“I would really like to show it to you one day…”

He saw the light in her eyes before quelling it in a moment. Damian felt horrid for even bringing it up, knowing she would never leave this place. She glanced away sadly.

“Look, I-“ he started, but stopped when Raven’s eyes went wide and she was standing in a flash, looking out of the west side windows.

“What’s wrong?” asked Damian, already getting the bad feeling that he knew.

Raven’s unique amethyst eyes infinitesimally wavered back and forth, as if searching something in the tree line in the dead of night.

“ _Father_ ,” she whispered. “I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Damian, grabbing his sword.

“Damian, no.”

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

“You’re right. Because you’re staying here.”

“No!”

“Damnit,” Raven snarled, “ _fine!_ But you stay behind me.”

“Sure thing, boss,” amended Damian. He had his sword in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Raven gave him another look before waving her hand once more, opening a circular portal made of violet light in the middle of the room. Damian made sure they stepped through it together so that she didn’t leave him behind.

They came upon damp earth nestled around tall, leafless trees. Wind swayed the branches and whistled around them. Damian had no clue what part of the forest they were in.

“This way,” said Raven confidently, “keep that light on my back and not in my eyes.” She didn’t wait for an affirmative response before making headway toward her goal.

Damian trailed after her. Somehow, in all of this forest, she seemed to almost be following a narrow, winding path to her objective. Damian occasionally moved the light to the woods around them, in case any predators were near. It was much colder in this part of the woods.

“Not much further,” she said. “I can feel him stagnate. We’re getting close.”

The handle of Damian’s katana felt heavy in his hand. He tightened his grip around it, pushing for aggression. It seemed it would soon be needed.

“We’re too late,” Raven muttered to herself bitterly. Damian didn’t think it was even meant for him to hear as she began moving faster. He swore she was gliding in the air, inches off the ground. The forest was nothing more than a black blur at this pace.

And then it wasn’t.

They’d come upon a clearing, perhaps twenty yards of open space all around them. Raven had stopped. Damian did so right beside her, pointing his light forward. He nearly dropped the sword and his flashlight.

Carcasses of wolves laid spread out among the grass, deep red blood coating the fur at their necks. Damian’s eyes grew wide as he saw across the clearing the last wolf being subjected to the treatment it’s pack must have got.

It stood humanoid on two feet like a man, but clearly it was not. Unnatural red skin unlike anything else in the forest. A black loin cloth like a savage. White hair protruding from the back of it’s head and two horns sprouting from atop, textbook signifying that it must have been from Hell. The creature must’ve stood at least ten feet tall. It held the massive wolf with ease, clutching it by the body and head as it clamped down on its neck.

“Father,” said Raven grimly.

It’s eyes opened at once. Four of them. A pair where human eyes were and another set above them. They all found Raven at once, throwing its meal to the side, then caught sight of Damian, who swallowed, but gripped his sword tighter.

“You’ll never touch him, you old filth,” declared Raven, a snarl on her face.

Trigon the Terrible’s expression seemed to match hers. It opened its mouth and spoke without its lips moving any more.

_“Vermin.”_

Raven was done waiting. Her hands glowed instantly with power that she shot at Trigon. The creature dodged and charged at them with inhuman speed, screeching all the while.

Damian had been right about before. Raven _was_ flying. She went airborne several feet and met her father halfway, clashing with him physically. It swiped at her, trying to deal a blow, while she blasted him.

“Back to Hell with you,” she yelled, nailing a blow to her father’s face, who screeched and backed away in pain, “and may Lucifer lock the gates while you burn!”

Damian entered the fray. Stomaching what may have been fear, he charged with his sword in form. As Trigon swatted at Raven in the sky, he slashed one of its legs badly.

The screech was a sound not of this world. Its blood was black. It retaliated in a swing with its massive claw of a hand that Damian narrowly avoided.

“You’re not getting away!” roared Raven. “You pay for Azarath tonight!”

Backing away, Trigon covered its face where she blasted it. Two red eyes managed to burn brighter as it glared at the pair of them.

_“What… you did… daughter…”_

Raven faltered, looking ripped apart for a moment.

Damian pointed his blade at the monster. “Come, lesser demon. Your head will look nice mounted on my wall.”

Trigon removed its hand from its face, revealing skin crawling back together, trying to reform itself, and shrieked at the pair of them, the grass between them blowing with the force. It then dashed into the forest, disappearing.

“We should go after it!” Damian said fiercely.

“No,” said Raven calmly. “Trigon has gone spirit form. I would need to be very focused to hurt him in that way and I won’t be able to do that knowing he can get to you at any second.” She looked at the carcasses of the dead wolves with a deep frown, then to Damian. “We lost tonight.”

Damian felt horrible. “I’m sorry,” he said, “if I hadn’t held you back by coming along, slowing you down, you could have saved them.”

Raven shook her head. “It’s of comfort to me that Trigon knows you can defend yourself even better than wild, gruesome wolves such as these. Come. Let’s go back to the tower.”

Damian glanced sadly at the dead wolves as she opened a portal. Raven’s eyes were whipping around the forest until he walked through into his room. It was just as they left it.

She was silent behind him for a long minute.

“Sooo… that was my dad.”

Damian almost laughed. He turned to Raven. They both wore bittersweet smiles.

“If that thing can bleed, why hasn’t anything hurt him before?” he asked.

“Perhaps they do,” Raven weighed, “but you saw how his face… reconstructed itself. He heals as well as I do. The only way to stop him is to overpower him, which nothing in that forest can do. Or, to kill him dead.”

“That was incredible, how you fought,” said Damian in admiration, “your father obviously fears you.”

The corner of Raven’s mouth ticked up. “Maybe you as well now. Trigon is an empath like me. He obviously knows you don’t fear him enough to not stick your sword down his throat.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, reveling in the fact they weren’t useless. It felt like a second set of walls of protection. Then Damian remembered something.

“What it said…”

Raven grimaced. “I’m guessing you’re not meaning when he called me a vermin?”

Damian made a face and Raven carried on. She looked sadder than he had ever yet seen her.

“When… what happened, _happened_ to Azarath… I took up the duty of Lady Azar to defend the forest from Trigon, in respect of her wishes and that the forest gave refuge all these years to outsiders. When Trigon learned the hard way that I can stand up to him, he tried putting it in my head that _I_ was the one who destroyed Azarath, that he had never been there in those short moments of destruction. He made it seem as if it was my own power, gone beyond my control, that laid waste to my home.”

“No,” said Damian quickly, “there’s no way that’s true.”

Raven shook her head. “I don’t believe it is either. I know I felt him that day. But… when I’m that close to him, he can subject my mind to the torment of it being true. It usually gives him enough time to escape.”

“Damn him,” growled Damian. Raven peeked at him sadly.

“Damian,” she spoke softly, “he-he still wants you. He may go out of his way to hunt for you while you’re here.”

“The demon wants to change up his diet?” pondered Damian, thinking he probably should have felt more afraid. But being this close to Raven, it was impossible not to feel safe.

“He obviously wants people as well as animals,” said Raven, “the stronger the spirit, the most he desires them. He was after Garfield as well, only not nearly as much.” Her eyes were apprehensive now. “If I hadn’t been watching you as often as I had, he would have gotten you in those first weeks. I battled him one night outside of your tower as you slept.”

“My guardian angel,” said Damian, grinning. Raven rolled her eyes, seeing him not shaken by the news. They were silent for a moment again.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Raven anxiously.

“Emiko,” said Damian, more to himself.

All anxiety dropped from Raven’s eyes immediately. “The fuck did you just say?” In her normal tone.

“No, not like-“ said Damian, shaking his head seriously, “I mean, I haven’t heard from her since, you know. I’ve assumed she’s still pouting and didn’t want to talk.” He looked at Raven. “If Trigon is hunting people, maybe he got the next best thing around.”

“Oh, there is no need to worry,” said Raven, frowning and folding her arms, “she’s got no spirit.”

“Raven…”

“Fine!” she growled. Throwing Damian a nasty look, she muttered, “be quiet for a minute” and closed her eyes.

She reopened them after half of one passed, an eyebrow cocked. “She’s fine,” she said. “I can feel her in her tower. She’s _still_ angry.”

“Great,” said Damian dryly. “At least she’s okay.” Raven was watching him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on,” Damian sighed, “let’s get to bed. It’s late.”

Raven seemed to agree, beginning to remove her cloak, but still casting wary glances out to the west.


	10. Chapter 10

** DAY 72 **

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“So we’ve named everyone else,” mused Raven thoughtfully.

“Yes?”

“Well, how about…”

Damian looked to where she was referring to. The giant bear that had been around the area since his first night was snoozing cozily in the tall grass, the evening light drooping ever lower. They were down by the lake again, Raven being insistent on catching and eating poor, unsuspecting fish.

“We have Mage the turtle,” said Raven, “Ana the goose. We’ve named her little ducklings Expresso and Pumpkin.”

“I still don’t see the father anywhere,” muttered Damian. It was ever a mystery.

“So why don’t we name her?” Raven asked. She turned her gaze from the grizzly to Damian. “What’s a good name for a bear?”

“ _TT,”_ Damian replied. “I don’t know, how about we stick to something short, like a nickname? How about… B?”

Raven looked at him dead-panned. “ _B_ as in _bear_?” she asked in disbelief.

“Glad we’ve got that settled,” said Damian. He turned his attention to the fish in the bucket. “What are we calling these guys?”

“Dinner,” Raven answered simply. Damian sighed. At least he tried.

** Day 75 **

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Damian made the walk up the large hill. It was the second to last time he’d be getting packages from home. He took the contents from the drop-box and made the trek back to Goliath.

“What did you get?” asked Raven, breathing a sigh of relief. She had anxiety every second Damian was out of her sight now.

He unloaded the package. “A couple of books. Check this out- a scy-fy horror from Tim, that could be up your alley,” he said, handing her the novel about some astronauts on the moon finding strange life. She examined the cover with great interest. “And some letters from home.” He examined who’d written him. Bruce and Selina, of course. There was also one from Richard, Alfred, and Stephanie again.

“She’s been writing often,” Raven noted.

“She probably feels bad from the lack of attention my brothers give me sometimes,” said Damian uneasily. “And… well, I don’t have anyone else but them. I never made any friends.”

“And it’s when you come to isolation that you actually find one,” said Raven.

“Oh, we’re just _friends,_ are we?” inquired Damian, smirking crookedly. Raven was currently only wearing her underwear and one of Damian’s t-shirts.

“I was talking about your best buddy Emiko,” she replied smoothly.

Damian snorted, not dignifying that with an answer.

** DAY 78 **

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Damian woke up to Raven feeding Mage the tortoise in the corner of the room. Odd, since he usually woke before her.

“Hey you,” he said, moving out of bed, looking for his shorts.

“Hi,” said Raven. She was wearing his clothes- a pullover and the black shorts he was looking for. He smiled, loving the sight. Then he noticed that a strand of hair stuck to her face. She’d been sweating.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling much more alert.

“My father was down by the lake in the middle of the night.”

“What?” said Damian, getting angry. “Why didn’t you wake me!”

Raven didn’t look guilty at all. “You’d just fallen asleep. You needed your rest after as much work you put in,” she smiled to herself, in her own little world thinking of last night, “besides, he was in spirit form. I needed the silence sans distractions to focus enough.”

Damian thought quick and hard before responding. “Why was he in spirit form? What can he do like that?”

“He can still drain life forces,” Raven told him matter-of-factly, “but Trigon always tries to avoid that. He doesn’t get the right _taste_ as opposed to flesh.”

“And Trigon hates to not always get what he wants,” muttered Damian. The greedy demon king of his kingdom. He watched Raven from the corner of his eyes. She was feeding Mage with a sad look on her face which she turned to Damian.

“You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you?” she asked quietly.

He grimaced. September first, his ninetieth day mark where his schedule was up, was just under two weeks away. How had the time gone so quick?

“I’ll miss you,” said Raven, her throat constricting, “I can’t go with you, but I want you to know that. I’ll think of you every day.”

“I know you will,” said Damian smoothly, confidence at what must be done easily coming to him, “because you _will_ be leaving with me.”

Raven gave him a long look. “I’m staying. So long as there is a threat, I’m staying. I owe it… to everyone.”

“The forest can take care of man itself,” said Damian, shrugging. “It was doing that on its own before Lady Azar. It’ll do it on its own after.”

“I wasn’t speaking of man-“

“I know, I know,” said Damian. He stood up, still stark naked. Raven was focused enough to not let her eyes travel the length of his body. Her amethysts stayed squarely on Damian’s emeralds.

“I have a plan.”

** DAY 81 **

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“I hate this, Damian.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“With my life,” Raven answered without hesitation, “but I don’t know if I trust _me_ with _yours.”_

“Raven, with you watching over me, I would walk through Hell blindfolded without any fear,” replied Damian into his walkie-talkie, hoping to soothe her anxiousness.

“I hope,” she managed back grimly, “because what we’re doing is something close to that.”

“We need silence,” he radioed back, “I guarantee even your voice spooks him off.”

And so, there was silence. All except for the wind in the dead of night. Not a soul in sight other than Damian himself. Which was all part of his plan.

If the demon wanted him, it was up to Trigon to come and claim him.

Raven had chosen the spot. A riverbed Damian had never seen before, probably many, many miles away from his watchtower, somewhere she was _just_ familiar enough with that she could teleport to on a dime.

She had stolen Emiko’s walkie-talkie an hour ago, shortly after midnight, once she fell asleep so that they could keep in contact. Raven was safely nestled far away in Watchtower Goliath still, probably clinging to the radio and trying not to destroy the room with her powers leaking out from anxiety.

Anxiety because of course Damian was the bait.

It took days to convince her. To end the suffering of the forests Azarath. To end Trigon. To finally be rid of the burden. For Raven to finally have freedom… They just needed him to be confrontational.

And so, Raven revealed a shared weakness of her and the demons: pride.

“COME ON OUT, YOU LESSER SPAWN OF HELL!” Damian shouted with all the force of his lungs. “INSIGNIFICANT WORM! DOES HELL EVEN REALIZE YOU’VE LEFT?! TRIGON IS THE LEAST OF ALL THAT LIVES, SCARED OF A YOUNG BOY WITH A KNIFE!”

He’d been at it now for nearly twenty minutes, getting quite colorful in his insults. The demon had revealed itself to know his language. Damian just had to be the worm sitting on the water’s surface for a little bit longer, his only companions the birds of the trees, chirping tunelessly.

Until they weren’t.

Damian watched as the birds rise as a group without cause from the trees in a cloud, high into the night sky.

He felt the familiar chill again. Being watched from the shadows. Damian glanced every way, trying to get a feel where it was coming from, gripping both his sword and the walkie-talkie tightly.

“I have to wonder,” he said loudly, “if you stay in a forest because neither Hell nor man fears you. Hunting dogs and rabbits like a savage begging for scraps.” Damian smirked tauntingly. “You’re _hiding._ ”

The trick was done. Across the river, in the darkness between bushes, a pair of red eyes appeared at waist height. Damian swallowed every feeling but his readiness. The second pair appeared as a monstruous red man crawled out of the woods on all fours. He heard its bones crackle and pop as Trigon the Terrible stood tall, eyes of either hatred or hunger fixated on Damian.

Who felt the need to further taunt him.

“If you are _Terror_ incarnate, please do not lie,” he almost sang, feeling a little mad, his heart beating wildly inside of his chest, “why was your own daughter able to fuck up your eye?”

Trigon came from him in a speed blitz, running straight across the surface of the water.

Damian pressed a button on his radio. Rather than say anything at all, he just let Raven listen to the sound of her father’s screech.

Trigon had covered the space in seconds. Damian lifted his blade, preparing to swing against Trigon’s claw-like hand, when a familiar portal of light opened and a blast of energy came through it, catching Trigon on its side and rolling the demon over in a tumble.

Raven was through in a moment, throwing more bolts of power at it.

“You fall this night, father!” she screamed. Trigon bled from its side but was not helpless, nor without tricks of its own. A stream of hellish fire came from its mouth that Raven narrowly dodged.

Damian threw the walkie-talkie at its head, getting Trigon’s attention. “Tell me monster,” he grunted positioning his blade, “are you so low on the food chain of Hell that your actions aren’t even worth being judged? You did stay away from humans, after all, being too afraid of them.”

He had hoped that not only would the insults keep Trigon in the midst of battle, but also keep his attention on Damian. It worked like a charm. Trigon moved with supernatural speeds and swiped at Damian, who slashed back with his sword sharply. Both let out cries of pain. Black blood leaked from Trigon’s massive claw, but the blow struck Damian several feet into the air, and he knew was cut badly on his good arm.

“Damian!” Raven cried. She turned her aggression on her father, hitting him with a larger blast.

“When you are put back in Hell, no one will mourn you,” she thundered. Damian looked up, holding his arm, to see the flesh on Trigon’s form slug back into place. He gritted his teeth. What the hell did they have to do?

_“Too weak, vile bird.”_

“If that’s so,” hissed Raven, “why do you always flee, coward?” She shot more energy at him.

Damian lifted his sword with his nondamaged arm. There was a flare of purple and red mixing in mid-air, causing a shockwave all around them. He saw Trigon’s face turn towards the opposite riverbank.

“No, you don’t!” cursed Damian, charging in. Trigon was a powerful entity, but it was no tactician. Its needs and impulses were too base. It either wanted to flee… or wanted Damian near it. Guessing the latter, Damian waited until he was close enough for Trigon to turn his way before throwing his sword, the blade making direct contact, stabbing into Trigon’s arm.

The creature of hell wailed again. And though Raven shot fires onto its back as well, it smacked his blade out from its skin and still managed to catapult its way towards a defenseless Damian.

Oh shit, he thought.

He slid just enough to go underneath its main tackle, which probably would have ripped Damian in two, but its foot caught him and he received another slash across the left side of his abdomen.

“No!” yelled Raven. “Damian, stay behind me!”

“Don’t let up!” Damian said, fetching his blade from the ground. “This may be our only chance!” The winds rapidly grew sharper as if Trigon was summoning a storm to aid him. Damian seethed when he saw the monster’s flesh healing. They needed the moment they planned for to come soon. They couldn’t fight all night.

Trigon shot a blast Damian’s way that he tucked into a roll to avoid. Raven sent a return fire her father’s way that hit square on the money. It roared over the loud whistle of the wind and stared at its daughter with pure hatred.

_“Fly away, little bird… you think with all your power you’ll kill me… but you’ll kill him…”_

Damian tucked around the side of their staredown, going unnoticed as Trigon focused on the much larger threat.

“You cannot fool me,” said Raven, though her eyes were straining to focus on what was before her. “I know the lies you tell. You worked through me that day to destroy a power greater than your own, lowly demon.”

_“Murderous… vulture… you will kill the boy.”_

Raven’s eyes widened. His power of deceiving had her for a moment, but it was the opening Damian needed. He was not far left of the demon, recalling the training he endured as a young boy. Perhaps his mother had been awful to him, but if it prepared him for this moment, he would be free of any grudges.

Damian threw the katana with his bad arm while the demon was distracted. It managed to fly straight despite the wind and connected with its skull.

Trigon howled in unutterable agony, concentration leaving Raven altogether as the demon looked skywards, almost unable to comprehend the blade that had entered the left side of its face and pierced straight through the back of its head. The winds stopped at once.

Raven’s focus returned to her eyes. She stared at her demon father for a moment, stunned that their plan seemed to work. Then she raised her joint fists over her head, commanding a strong burst of purple energy, and flung it forward with a mighty yell.

“Begone!” she cried as the concentrated blast connected with Trigon’s head, too injured to defend himself. There was a great explosion of light and the ground itself shook. Damian ducked down, guarding his eyes and body in case of any flying projectiles and hoped Raven was doing the same. It was too bright to see anything, and nothing could be heard over Trigon’s fading wails.

Then the dust settled and the light faded. All there was in the clearing was Damian, Raven, shadows, and a twenty-foot wide crater in the ground. Damian looked around, disbelief shrouding hope. He met Raven’s wide eyes, saw the confirmation in them, shock holding back her celebration. Then, like a fire lit, fierce joy sprang across her face as she dashed for Damian, throwing her arms around him, shaking with a delighted cry, the revenge of Azarath satiated at last.


End file.
